Lunatic Carnivale
by Konpeitou
Summary: Otogakure is gone, Akatsuki defeated, and the Kazekage finds himself in strange circumstances. Sometimes peace is just too much work for a warrior. Gaaracentric, exploring his life and growth in subsequent years. GaaNaru
1. Chapter 1

konpeitou: Posting early before completion to enter thatreevesgirl's/Lemon Drops' GaaNaru fanfic contest.

I adore Gaara and started this as a gift for my friend doragon (as is my usual reason for writing GaaNaru), but along the way it became a more Gaara-centric story than originally planned, so I just went with it and explored the character more while continuing with the original plot idea. I hope you enjoy o.o

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A heavy, silent air filled the dim room with a mild discomfort that bordered on stuffy. Four figures, three standing while one sat, were bathed in a reddish glow from the setting sun directly outside the large oval windows. A simple rectangle desk separated the two parties, the elbows of the seated one resting on the smooth top, fingers laced casually together. The face was buried in shadow, back to the sun as it was, as it rested lightly against the arched hands and eyes closed to the room. Spikes of short hair seemed to flame in a halo in the dying light. The other three men, jounin all, shifted their weight in the lengthy silence. 

"Kazekage-same, are you really sure this is wise?" one asked finally, shattering the silence into bits of dust to flutter slowly into nothing. Pale green eyes opened slowly over the lacework fingers to fix on the speaker for a long moment. A series of slow breaths filled the chamber that felt empty, though it wasn't.

"You know as well as anyone that this is necessary, Baki." Gaara slid his eyes closed again, a deceptively peaceful expression on his shadowed face. "What does it matter now anyway? Every village is already too committed to pull out now. Our shinobi were sent out a week ago, their replacements are already arriving. It's too late for doubts." A dim eye cracked open a slit to appraise the trio before him, but none spoke out again. He sighed. "Just leave the reports, I'll get to them myself. Dismissed."

The three jounin nodded curtly and turned for the door. At the last second the shortest and youngest paused, twisted enough to look over his shoulder at the Kazekage hesitantly. Neither moved for a long moment as the final light dipped past the dunes on the horizon. The shinobi opened his mouth as though to speak but closed it again without a word, shaking his head and closing the door behind him as he exited. Gaara did not acknowledge either his brother's hesitance or his departure.

Several more minutes passed before the redheaded leader of Sunagakure sighed imperceptibly and straightened in his seat. Soft hands unlaced themselves and settled on the desktop, slowly warming the cool material with his own body heat as the light green eyes stared sightlessly at the dark sandstone ceiling. _What have we gotten ourselves into?_ Gaara wondered for what seemed like the millionth time since this featherbrained scheme was first proposed. _This is either going to go very well, or very badly for all of us._ The white and green robes of office shuffled quietly in the empty room as Gaara settled himself into a more relaxed position in his chair with his eyes closed to just think back on recent events.

The previous year had been hectic for all the hidden villages, except perhaps Otogakure for obvious reasons; they were too busy licking their wounds and now doubt plotting more assaults while recovering. Nearly two years had passed since the village's decimation, slightly longer since the supposed "destruction" of the Akatsuki that started the whole mess. Everyone knew that the Akatsuki wasn't really gone, that many of its elite members escaped to fight another day, but after a couple years of relative safety from both enemies the general paranoia was beginning to die down. The rest of the mess, however, was not so easy to get over.

The problem with having defeated the Akatsuki was that the elite organization had been kidnapping then murdering to obtain demons for a long time beforehand, one of such unfortunate victims had been Gaara himself. They had accumulated quite a collection, yet for some reason not all had been implanted into their members and instead were still imprisoned in the horrific containment mechanism that was used to take them in the first place. The Kazekage shivered reflexively from the unpleasant memory, even four years after the event. It had been one of the few times he had ever felt such pain. Or such fear.

Since some demons were still contained for whatever reason, the victorious shinobi found themselves in possession of them within the artifact. The problem with that had been that no single village had taken down the organization and instead a collection of allies had made the final attack that snapped their defenses, thus no single village or their country had claim to the demons. The resulting arguments over THAT had almost started a catastrophic war between nations. Things only got worse when people realized the depth of the Akatsuki's power-hungry greed. The organization had been very thorough in their research, because not only did they create the monstrous contraption to steal and house the demon spirits, they somehow made a link for them to be snapped back into the prison in the event of their host's death. Every shinobi village had been awed and downright baffled by the mechanism, but ultimately they ended up with most of the stolen spirits back in their position, save those still in the Akatsuki that had escaped the assault and following months of hunter-nin teams chasing the leftovers.

The prevalent opinion that the demons were powerful weapons reared its ugly head and the countries, through pressuring their villages, nearly tore each other apart trying to get their hands on the spirits for themselves. It had seemed like only the fact that three of the five Kage's fighting indignantly against their plans was all that kept war from actually breaking out. Gaara's own power was undermined by his history as a jinchuuriki but the support of both the Hokage and Raikage helped firm a base against their own lords as well as the other countries. It had been a very tense and grueling seven months of verbal warfare. It was the lady Hokage herself who finally proposed the brave plan to distribute them back to their original villages. The suggestion caused another uproar of its own as countries greedily tried to lay claim to more demons than they had originally possessed. Others didn't want theirs back in the first place, but none wanted others to take control of them either. It was really a headache of epic proportions for all those involved.

After another half-year or so of political bickering, and after over a year of seal specialists studying the soul sucking monstrosity, the demons were finally given back to their previous hosts villages. As head of the leading force of shinobi that had taken down the organization as well as a fuin specialist herself, the Hokage enforced her right to oversee the demon transfers. After all, she said, her village led the attack, took the brunt of the casualties, and it was her damn idea. The Kazekage and Raikage had backed her. The problem, though, with having a demon container the size of a building was that it made transportation rather difficult. They needed to be moved into new vessels, first.

Gaara shivered again, right hand subconsciously coming up to trace the scar on his forehead before slipping down to rest on the folds of cloth over his heart. The matter of new vessels for the demons had been something the Kazekage had not been comfortable with. He alone, of all the leaders involved, had a unique perspective on the matter. The Hokage and Raikage were sympathetic, as leaders that actually cared for and respected their jinchuuriki, but they couldn't fathom the nightmare that being such a vessel was for a young soul. Memories of his own lonely life urged him to balk at the suggestion. He wished his past on no one.

It couldn't be helped, the researchers had said. They didn't know how to keep up the wards on the containment, nor did they know how to destroy it. If they didn't remove the demons then they'd eventually break free to rampage again. Each had their memories of fighting against a demon but the thought of so many at once, bloodthirsty and likely screaming for vengeance after imprisonment, was not a pleasant thought. Yet again, innocents had to be sacrificed for the greater good and Gaara had been nauseas at the thought. He never wanted to subject someone to his own personal hell, yet as a leader he couldn't just let the demon run roughshod over his village and country. So he did the only thing he _could_ do: Gaara volunteered himself to once again become the jinchuuriki for the Ichibi, Shukaku. He'd endured the whiny bastard for fifteen years, after all, who better to handle him? At least in that way, he consoled his protestors, he could save at least one innocent child. In Kumogakure the sister of the previous host volunteered to take in the Nibi, Nekomata. After such a display as others viewed as martyrdom for their countries, the other villages were subtly pressured to find fitting, and preferably willing, hosts for their own spirits, as well as to treat those brave souls with the respect they deserved.

It didn't work out exactly as hoped, but no one truly expected perfection. They did their best for the newest generation and prayed that they would lead happier lives. Fortunately many of the new vessels turned out to be old enough to actually understand what was happening to them, so they were spared a painful childhood of not knowing why everyone hated them. Gaara sincerely wished them the best.

Unfortunately, the whole fiasco was like handing explosives to children. Every country was suddenly suspicious of their neighbors for having regained their demons. No matter that they'd all had them before, now it was common knowledge and most of the new hosts were trained fighters. Everyone had a shiny new not-so-secret weapon and was watching nervously for someone else to make the first move. It was all _quite_ frustrating.

With a sigh Gaara straightened himself in his seat and reached for the neglected reports on his desk while absently turning on a desk lamp in the now-dark office. The answer to all the paranoia had been offered up in the form of a shinobi exchange program: each village would, for a period of several months, send seven of their own shinobi to each foreign ninja village in exchange for one of their own. That had been another painful set of months arguing. He skimmed the files as he flipped through them, having already expected or been verbally told of the updates. In the end – after much grumbling, bickering, and sorting of minor details – the eight hidden villages had acquiesced to the proposal and a mere week ago had begun sending out their shinobi in trade. Sunagakure had received a medic-nin from Amegakure first – their jutsu were mostly useless and weak in this desert country, they logically claimed, so a medic-nin was sent and Gaara had sent a medic-nin to them in return. Shortly after a jounin arrived from Kusagakure. A day and a half later, this very afternoon in fact, found a hunter-nin from Iwagakure crossing into Suna territory to replace the one likewise sent to them by agreement. _So far so good,_ the Kazekage thought absently, _everything's going according to plan._

He closed the most recent files and placed them on the side of his desk atop the previous ones about the matter that were currently waiting for his attention. There were still four more shinobi expected to arrive; the representatives from Konohagakure and Takigakure were expected to arrive sometime the next day, given average travel rates, while the two from Kumogakure and Kirigakure would naturally take longer as they had the farthest distance to cover – several countries each, in fact. _I really hope none of them are stupid enough to get killed on the way. Diplomatic incidents due to stupidity are not something I need right now – hell, none of us need that right now._

The nineteen year-old redhead decided to put off dealing with the file full of dutifully noted concerns. Frankly, the council had capitulated to this scheme and until something happened to validate the concerns over the foreigners then Gaara simply didn't care what people thought. The whole point was to build trust and get _over_ the paranoia, not propagate it with incessant questions of _'are you sure we can trust them?'_. Turning off the small desk lamp and actually taking a moment to lock the door – his guards were always complaining that he didn't lock up his office – the young leader led himself through the near-empty halls out of the large building and out into the darkened streets. He had a set of private quarters within the administrative building but he also still technically lived with his siblings in the village. It wasn't far away, not surprising since it had been their father's house before them and he had been the Kazekage predecessor before his… _untimely_ death.

A few vendors were still closing up their shops as he strolled through the streets, most offering him small smiles and a bow of the head as he passed. A couple even went so far as to wave. Even after having been Kazekage for roughly five years Gaara still felt a bit awkward to be on the receiving end of any sort of friendliness. The three years he had spent without his demon had helped to calm the general fears, served as proof that he was not and never really had been his demon. It had been a weak and tentative sort of acceptance, but it was enough to hold them through the fear when he got the Ichibi re-implanted and finally realize that he didn't change – he merely got a power boost. So he inclined his own head and offered tentative smiles at the villagers as he passed, fighting his own awkwardness for the sake of their comfort and loyalty. Even for the ones who were still hesitant and scared of him.

"Good evening, Kazekage-sama," one shopkeeper called, a younger girl who quickly wiped her hands on her apron before waving genially. Gaara paused in his steps, confused by the warm beckoning of the teen but curious enough to heed the call and step towards the closing shop. The petite blonde looked to be only twelve or thirteen at best, looking up to him with a broad smile. "You're out late tonight. You must be busy lately, what with these new ninja coming in, huh?"

"Something like that," he murmured back slowly with a faint curl to his lips.

"Must be tough… Hey, could you wait here just a sec?" she asked suddenly, then bit her lip and shifted her weight unsurely, "I mean, I didn't mean to step out of place or be rude or anything but there's something I wanted to give you inside and so I was hoping you'd just–" she snapped her mouth shut abruptly when he raised his hand to forestall her rambling.

"I'll wait." Gaara assured her. She shuffled quickly back into the store and the taller redhead waited patiently, amused by her nervousness around him – not because she was afraid of him, for once, but the simple and ordinary reaction of the young around someone older and more powerful. A mere six years at least separated them, not much when you think about it, but enough that the girl was apparently unaffected by his violent and bloody past. It wasn't until she came back bearing a folded box that he realized the shop was a bakery.

"They're still fresh!" she squeaked hesitantly as she held the box out to the taller man. "We always make a last batch in the evening for late comers and the like." Gaara blinked owlishly, completely flabbergasted and touched by the gesture. The child blushed and looked away, shaking the redhead out of his momentary daze enough to take the offering. "I thought you could use a snack since you were working so late. There's some meat buns as well as a few sweets in there." She trailed off, scuffling her foot.

"Thank you." Gaara replied, smiling just a bit more at the pleased expression she turned on him.

"Sweetie, are you done locking up out there yet?" an older woman's voice called from within the shop before either figure could speak more. The girl squeaked in surprise.

"Almost 'kaa-san!" she called over her shoulder before facing the Kazekage again with a deep bow. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you Kazekage-sama. I have to go now, I hope you enjoy the pastries. Good night!"

"Good night…" he replied, but she was already scurrying back inside the shop to finish her chores. He waited a moment longer before continuing on his way back home.

It didn't take long, just a few blocks walked in pleasant silence, before he came upon the modest sandstone house of his family. Through sheer laziness he opened the door with his sand and closed it behind him with the same method; he got a perverse sort of pleasure out of shutting it loud enough to startle his dozing brother awake from the couch.

"Hey Gaara, you're back." Kankurou muttered the obvious as he rubbed his face – already washed free of its habitual kabuki paint – and levered himself into a sitting position. "Hey, is that food?" The younger sibling didn't bother to respond as he walked past the couch towards the kitchen to set the box down on the table so that he could get some iced-tea out of the refrigerator. By the time he turned around Kankurou was already sitting down and tallying up the contents. The redhead simply sat himself in another chair and pulled the box over, pulling out one of the meat buns like the two his brother had already claimed.

_Beef,_ he noted at first bite, chewing the bit slowly as opposed to the puppeteer decimating them across the table, _it tastes good._

"Say, Gaara…" Kankurou began as he ate the second roll at a more sedate pace, "I know the negotiations for this have been going on a long time and at this point we can't really pull out now without seeming suspicious, but was it really wise to be putting all these foreign shinobi in positions of power? Some of the trades are positions of high rank and security."

"It was necessary." Gaara said simply. He knew the concerns, very well in fact. It wasn't exactly a secret that most of his shinobi and even most of the council that had agreed to the proposal in the first place were wary of the amount of freedom being given to the foreigners. The medic-nin and hunter-nin weren't really a problem as far as they saw it – they worked with their own divisions and for the most part were trained with a universal code; medics healed and hunters hunted, borders didn't mean much to their kind. It was the jounins and other high-ranked shinobi that they worried over. Those would be receiving orders directly from the Kazekage himself and performing the same missions as any other Suna-nin. Ninja were trained to be suspicious and guarded so it made sense that the people feared sabotage or assassination, but logical or not Gaara was honestly tired of all the second-guessing. "Stop being paranoid," he muttered finally, reaching for another meat bun while his brother was already beginning on the dessert pastries, "Mass paranoia is the reason for this exchange in the first place, being paranoid about everyone is rather counter-productive. No one has managed to assassinate me yet," he slapped the other man's wrist lightly with a tendril of sand, both to for emphasis and to deter him from being gluttonous with the treats, "I don't think they're going to manage it now. I am also keeping an eye on them. I am _not_ stupid, after all, so would you please stop questioning my judgment?"

"All right all right, you win," the elder conceded, reaching in to grab one last confection from the box as he stood. "Just… take care of yourself." He didn't wait for a reply as he walked out of the kitchen towards his room. Gaara didn't watch him go.

_The really irritating thing is,_ he thought to himself in the silence,_ that I know they're right and have to convince them that they're wrong anyway. All it takes is one idiot or someone with a grudge to blow this all to hell._ Not pleasant thoughts, but ones he much think anyway as a leader. He had been careful when he chose his own shinobi to be sent to the other villages, so he wasn't really too worried about one of them causing an incident, and he suspected the Hokage and Raikage were likewise as careful given their common opinions and struggles throughout the debates. It was the others he had to be wary of, and as much as he could watch the ninjas now under his command Gaara knew that there were seven other villages which faced the same dangers. With a nearly imperceptible sigh he reached for the neglected box to get one of the dessert pastries, only to find a single piece remaining and spared a moment of annoyance for his sibling. It wasn't that he was particularly fond of sweets so a little was more than enough, it was the principle of the thing. _Greedy bastard._

The pastry was some sort of berry creampuff; sweet but not overly sugared. He nibbled on the treat slowly as he made his way to his own room, thoughts circling back in an endless cycle over the shinobi exchange. This time, it was with an air of anticipation that his mind thought of the coming warriors. Two more were expected to arrive sometime the next day, one of which a long-standing ally. The redhead finished off the sweet and absently brushed off any crumbs before changing and climbing into bed with a slight smirk. The morrow was likely to be very… interesting.

* * *

The Kazekage was in his office before any of the aides thought to check for him there, several hours before normal work time. He hadn't slept well; not a particularly rare occurrence admittedly, but he'd given up pretense early and come in to finish reviewing and signing reports. To hell with the Akatsuki, the true nemesis to a Kage was paperwork. By the time an aide came looking he had already finished up the neglected files from the day before and set them aside for the older chuunin to take away and file. Unfortunately, the number of files the man took away was less than the amount of fresh ones he left on the desk afterwards. 

Never-ending paperwork from hell.

How was it possible for so much to accumulate overnight? _Do I really have to approve every little acquisition my people make? Medics don't need me telling them when they need gauze and the botanists don't need me telling them how much care to give to the plants that they're growing for us all. _Of course, he could just mindlessly stamp his approval on the requisition reports, but in early years he had found other things hidden amidst the files. Bureaucrats. Tedious as it was, and despite that it hadn't happened in the last few years, Gaara knew he had to actually pay attention to the damn things. He managed to put a hefty dent in the new pile by the time another aide came in three hours later and stifled a surge of annoyance at the prospect of more files when he saw who had entered.

"Good afternoon Kazekage-sama," the chuunin girl greeted with a smile. The redhead set the pen and folder aside and returned the smile with a small one of his own. "I thought you might like some tea." She raised the tray in her hands to show the kettle, cups and canister of leaves resting atop it as she made her way towards the desk.

"Ah, thank you Matsuri." Gaara murmured, relaxing back in his chair and watching the girl measure out leaves and prepare the tea. Matsuri wasn't very tall, a few inches shorter than his own rather diminutive height, auburn hair was pulled into a loose braid that draped over her right shoulder and the standard uniform beneath her chuunin vest was modified to be more open and feminine, sporting bared arms and a skirt over the standard mesh armor. A worn yellow bandana was tied loosely around her neck. Though not much younger than the Kazekage himself, she had yet to pass the rank of chuunin and so worked as his assistant – a post she had requested, and though Gaara didn't know why he was pleased by the fact; he knew to appreciate such gestures.

"Here you go." Matsuri's voice followed the steaming cup of tea she carefully placed before him, followed by a small plate with a few cookies on it, a nice contrast to the tea but not overly sweet. He took a cautious sip of the steaming liquid as she poured herself a serving in the other cup. Over the past year it had become common that she would join him for tea if he were not otherwise occupied. Dark eyes studied him over the ceramic rim as she took a slow sip. "So, how are you, Gaara-sensei?"

A barest twitch of the lips belied his amusement of the old title. She had not been his pupil long, nor was there much of an age discrepancy, but still she seemed to like to use the title as a familiar address. Rather than answer directly, he took another sip and idly turned a cookie in his fingers while he thought. How was he, hm? He was getting cornered daily by worries about the exchange, his subordinates and even council were wary and suspicious, he was repeating the same reassurances so often he was tempted to just make a recording to play, and he was getting buried under a mountain of paperwork every day. Gaara smirked and summed it in one statement. "I wish I still didn't have a conscience."

The younger girl blinked in confusion a moment before chuckling, catching the jest for the attempt at humor that it was even if she didn't quite understand the implication. Just as well, it probably wouldn't do to be telling his own people that he almost missed the days when he'd just as soon kill everyone for the frustration they were causing. Matsuri was old enough to have known the rumors but just far enough removed to have not experienced fear of him personally. "That was… elusive," she replied after a while as she reached for a cookie. "Has anything happened lately?"

The young leader let his head fall back against the chair and dark lids slide shut over tired eyes. "No," he answered quietly, "Just more of the same."

Whatever reply the younger chuunin might have made was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a purely mental sigh Gaara straightened his posture and called for the guest to enter, revealing a jounin man – one of the pass guards, if he recalled correctly. That would mean…

"Kazekage-sama, the group from Konohagakure has just arrived a few minutes ago. They are being escorted here now. The far scouts have also sighted the Takigakure group about three hours outside of the village."

Right, another arrival. Of course. He had left standing orders to be notified until all seven had arrived. Gaara dismissed the man back to his duties with an additional order to just bring the next group to him without an advance warning; this was well enough for a notice. Once he was gone Matsuri smiled wryly and began cleaning up the remnants of their tea time, ceramics clinking together in the sudden silence. "Take care, Gaara-sensei," she called gently as she headed for the door with her burden, "I'll go make sure the guest rooms are prepared." His quiet thanks followed her as the door closed.

The nineteen-year-old Kazekage didn't bother to get back to the neglected files, knowing it was only a matter of minutes until the Konoha troupe reached his office within the administration building. One robed arm moved to rest on the side of the chair and the teen shifted to let his face rest in the palm of that hand, mind wandering in idle curiosity over the possibilities of who might've been sent as his shinobi replacement. He knew who he wanted it to be, of course, but the likelihood of that was dubious at best. So, excluding that he tried to pull up any of the Leaf ninja of proper rank that could possibly fulfill the role.

That Hyuuga was a distinct possibility – though, admittedly, there was a decent chance that any of that clan would be equally fitting besides the one he knew as Neji. From what he remembered the heiress was leaning more into the medical arts than the usual standard of her clan which made her more unlikely. The dark and brooding one that commanded insects was also a likely possibility. He didn't particularly know either of the two shinobi but either would be a valuable asset. Preferable to the one with the dog, at any rate; Gaara sincerely hoped that that one wasn't ranked properly to be the replacement. There was that tall blonde girl, and though he vaguely remembered mentions of her as an espionage jounin specialist the irony would have been amusing. The shadow-user from her old team was also a very high possibility, one that Gaara knew fit the requirements for this trade, but if that was the case the Kazekage was going to be rather deeply irritated. The irony of _that_ situation was simply too much, given that –

A subtle knock interrupted his thoughts and the redhead straightened in his seat before calling for them to enter. Baki himself lead the way into the room, followed by a group of three black-cloaked figures, each sporting red and white anbu masks over their features. They stepped up into a perfectly even line before his desk and remained silent. "Kazekage-sama," his old teacher intoned formally with a small bow, "the delegation from Konohagakure no sato." Introduction done, the elder unobtrusively removed himself from the office.

"Welcome to Suna, dear Konoha allies." Gaara welcomed politely into the sudden silence, surreptitiously studying the three masks while he waited for one to make the next move. The leftmost mask was that of some form of bird, mostly white with only a small red design on the forehead and a little around the beak. In the middle was an oddly nondescript mask that could have been a cat or any manner of animal, typical curls of red on the cheeks and forehead. That one was interesting if only for its commonness. The last though – Gaara almost gasped. _Impossible!_ he thought against his first instinct, then shifted his eyes back towards the bird as he stepped forward and placed a message scroll on the desk.

"Kazekage-sama, a missive from the Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure." The deep voice that spoke behind the avian mask was distantly familiar, giving Gaara the feeling that he had heard it before but couldn't quite place to whom it belonged. "She sends her best regards and hopes you will use the anbu sent to you as you would any of your own." He bowed, followed a half-second later by the other two, then straightened and stepped back to his position in the line. Red spikes shifted slightly as the young leader inclined his head in response, hiding the small frown that was pulling at his lips. There was an undercurrent of… _something_ around the three cloaked figures – amusement maybe. Yet it was strange that they had not introduced the trade subject in the preamble. Curiosity darkened the green eyes as they flicked over the three masks, lingering a moment on the last. _It can't be_…

"I thank you for the courtesy," Gaara replied just as formally despite feeling slightly irked by the secretive identities. "Please take my regards with you to the lady Hokage and assure her that I will of course consider yours as one of my own, as I hope she will do as well." He stood then, crossed an arm across his midriff and bowed deeply and respectfully; an unnecessary gesture but one that he felt was right to make. The other three hastened to mimic the action and Gaara stifled a smirk at their surprise as he rose. "My assistant outside will show you to your quarters. Feel free to rest as much as you need until you are ready to return."

"Yessir." The three chorused together, too fast and too short for the redhead to discern the other voices, before heading out the door. He collapsed back in his chair instead, reaching for the message case and opening the latches to retrieve the scroll. Attention thus elsewhere he didn't see one of the foreign anbu pause at the exit, closing the door firmly behind his fellows without passing the threshold. He didn't notice the casual way with which the cloaked figure lounged against the closed door until a sudden voice broke through the room.

"Yo, Gaara."

The young Kazekage started in surprise, barely perceptible movement and only the slightest widening of his eyes betrayed him, but the other figure chuckled under his breath anyway. _That voice-!_ Gaara straightened and replaced the scroll on the desk, unread, forcing an air of composure over himself and stubbornly telling himself not to get his hopes up. He said nothing in response, just scrutinized the figure before him – a little taller and broader than himself, hidden by the standard black traveling cloak of their anbu ranks, only a vulpine mask with six red stripes on the cheeks distinguished the form from that of the other ranks. The teen felt a twinge at that mask, the shape and the whisker-like stripe designs, but would not jump to conclusions just yet.

The anbu tsk'd quietly, pushed himself off the door and sauntered across the room until only the desk separated them. "Am I unwelcome, Kazekage-sama?" he asked, voice dropping in pitch and coated with amusement. Pale eyes narrowed further. _Impossible, he can't be–_

"Naruto." Gaara breathed slowly. He meant it as a question although it came out more as a statement instead, but the other man laughed and moved to sit on the wooden desk, one hand resting carelessly on a pile of folders while the other reached up to remove the mask. Black fabric whispered quietly as the hood fell back, displaced by the white-and-red disguise sliding over a mass of dark blonde spikes. The redhead inhaled sharply through his nose, a familiar feeling curling through his system at the sight of the blue eyes boring into him and the broad smirk curling at the lips, deepening the shadows on the scar-like stripes across the tan cheeks.

"The one and only," he replied cheekily, smirk then settling into a more sedate smile as he continued in a near-whisper. "Did you really think I wouldn't come, Gaara?"

He didn't answer, closed his eyes briefly against the image and the soft voice. He had hoped, yes, but honestly not expected that Naruto would be permitted to come. He still hoped, even at that moment, that the blonde was the replacement to stay, but better judgment spoke otherwise. There was no way the Hokage would send her village's only jinchuuriki into another village, that she would give up their "weapon" and in so doing double the power of another shinobi village, standing ally or not. That only left him as an escort, a short visit at best. Another gentle call of his name prodded the teen to open his eyes once more to the shinobi on his desk. The soft smile, small but honest, tugged at his insides and pulled up a series of memories that the Kazekage knew he couldn't afford to indulge in.

"I suppose I didn't," he answered finally, knowing he needed to speak but unable to bring himself to ask the questions that he really wanted to. _Why you? Why are you here? How long will you stay? _As well as another question that burned in him that he couldn't even put words to. The expression on the tan face softened further and before he knew it Gaara found himself reaching forward. Horrified, he jerked his hand back before it could move far and hid the action by weaving his fingers together and placing the clasped hands firmly on the desk. "Won't they realize you're missing?" he asked instead, changing the subject because he didn't like the direction his mind was taking; it was ill-timed, unfitting and inappropriate.

Naruto simply shrugged. "Kage-bunshin," he explained, "If they haven't figured it out then they will eventually." The blue eyes narrowed despite the nonchalant words, a silent promise to return to that unspoken and avoided topic from before even as he accepted the topic change. Gaara felt a shiver roll through him at the look and felt the sudden urge to stand, so he rose with as much dignity as he could muster given the way his stomach was quivering and moved away, around the desk and idly fingering at a potted plant because he had to escape the familiar figure across his desk, even if only a little. He didn't speak, couldn't bring himself to, but luckily he had a reputation for being quiet so nothing seemed strange.

"Gaara," Naruto murmured again, a hint of worry and exasperation warring in the tone. The sound of fabric as he moved up off the hard wood seemed loud and distinct and the redhead stiffened as he heard the other draw closer, but he did not turn around to face him. A small sigh and the taller shinobi leaned a shoulder against the wall, forcing himself into the Kazekage's line of sight. "All right, I guess I should be going," he said with false energy, a concession to Gaara's mood although it made the other torn between relief and regret that he was leaving so soon. "Neji's going to be pissed off enough at me as it is, I'm sure he figured out the clone by now."

"Right," Gaara agreed, still facing the plant but keeping the blonde in sight out of the corner of his eye. He fought the sensory memory that was struggling against him. It was always like this when they met again, a heavy awkwardness in the air between them. "I have reports to get to and another team will be arriving this afternoon." Naruto nodded and began replacing the mask and hood as he walked towards the door. The anbu paused a moment at the exit and Gaara tensed in preparation for something unpleasant to be said, but in the end he left without a word and the young leader shook in the solitude of his office.

Numb and aching, he made his way back to his chair and collapsed in it, burying his head in his hands on the desk. It was always the same with them, the nerves and expectancy was almost painful. _It doesn't matter,_ he told himself although the words were a heavy lump in his stomach, _he's going to be leaving within a day. This meeting doesn't matter, this time._ It wasn't a consolation but it was enough to goad him into action. He buried himself in the work, went through the motions like a doll when the Takigakure group arrived in his office – another jounin from them – and then threw himself back into the work with fervor born of a desperate need to avoid something. It was well into the night before he guiltily remembered to read the Konoha missive. It was more than most villages sent, but that was common given their peaceful and allied history; a polite but personal letter from the Hokage, a few normal reports and then the personnel information of the newest temporary member of his anbu team. The file fell from suddenly numb fingers as previous emotions returned full force, a small maelstrom of feeling whirling around his chest. A pale hand moved to reflexively clutch at the fabric over his heart as if he could somehow crush the sensations, trepidation and anticipation and a dozen other things warring together at once.

A high, taunting voice echoed dimly from the back of his mind as the words echoed through his skull. Gaara screwed his eyes shut against the peals of laughter but knew he couldn't escape it.

"Shut up!" he hissed into the silence, trying to shove the chortles out of his mind until a spot of pain burned behind his eyes for the effort, but at last the voice faded back out. Oh how he hadn't missed that voice in those three years of freedom from the monster.

It didn't matter, the day's reports and files were all taken care of and it was almost time to be leaving anyway, so Gaara locked the foreign missives into his desk and left the rest in piles for an aide to take away in the morning. At the moment he just didn't want to deal with it anymore, not the work or his demon and definitely not his conflicting emotions, so left the office at a brisk walk with his personal sand trailing him in agitated tendrils – it wasn't worth the effort to reform it into the gourd, he was in no mood to go home so his quarters in the building were good enough for the night. Three floors down, through a hallway bridge to the east that connected the main building to a smaller one; mostly minor offices, storage spaces and a few vacant rooms. He had long since acquisitioned one of the spare rooms for a secondary bedroom, isolated away from most other people despite halfhearted protests at the time.

Originally he'd come here to escape his siblings, when he wasn't feeling quite capable of dealing with them or he knew that Temari was going to try to confront him over something. He'd come here to get away from everyone, really, and meditate in the solitude he was used to for most of his life. Then he'd been kidnapped and killed by having his demon painfully ripped out of his body, but upon his revival was the newfound ability to sleep without worry that the damned tanuki was going to kill the people he was finally beginning to care about. So as his body slowly adjusted he occasionally used the room for sleeping and had it furnished with a modest bed. What with all the worry from both the Akatsuki and Otogakure raising power there were many times where it had just been easier to stay within the building, never far from the endless work and emergency calls. By the time Shukaku was resealed in him, the use of the sparse quarters was too much by habit to stop, and even though the worst threats were passed and he no longer felt the extreme need to hide or the necessity to stay awake indefinitely, he still liked the room. But in every case, using the room rather than going home provided him with some solitude whenever he needed it. Thus when he entered the small room he was quite understandably surprised to find it already occupied.

Gaara hesitated only a moment as the door closed before narrowing his eyes in the dim light and allowing a frown of displeasure to pull at his features. "You've gotten good, to have been able to sneak into my private room." The blonde foreigner grinned broadly from his seat at the edge of the bed, blue eyes bright in the shadows following his figure as he slowly stepped further into the room. "If anyone else found you waiting in here they'd have tried to kill you, you know. An assassin in the Kazekage's room."

The grin widened a bit. "They could _try_ but I wouldn't let them." Naruto answered back, which only made the redhead frown more.

"Killing them wouldn't be any better," he pointed out dryly.

"I wouldn't do that either. I'm not stupid _or_ suicidal." Gaara quirked a brow at the last, because most people would consider sneaking into a foreign leader's bedroom a rather suicidal risk, but after a moment just smirked and began to unwrap the swathes of green and white robes. Naruto had already freed himself of both cloak and mask, as well as most of his uniform in general; he was now dressed casually in the uniform black pants and a dark burnt-orange shirt with a jagged red spiral painted on. He stood and stepped closer to redhead before pausing while he continued to remove the formal robes of office. "What took you so long? I thought you'd be done by now. Tsunade no baa-chan is always escaping as soon as she can."

Sea-green eyes flicked briefly at the intruder but he was surprisingly not really joking. "I had things to do and prefer not to put it off." Gaara murmured back, taking a moment to fold the robes up somewhat decently and setting them on a nearby chair. "How did you know I'd come here? I could have gone home."

"I didn't," he answered quietly, truthfully, "But I hoped."

It hurt, the proximity to the other teen. The pale skin beneath his clothes felt taught and overly sensitive to the presence by his side. The redhead wanted to step away, to step closer, so he stayed where he was and hated his insecurities. Tan fingers touched his cheek, sending a jolt of electricity across his skin at the contact, and turned his face slowly to the side until he had no choice but to face the blonde.

"How long has it been?" the darker teen asked quietly, but the blue eyes held another question.

"Over a year." Gaara answered just as quietly, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch – answer to the silent question – and suddenly the tension drained out of them both. They moved without thinking, closed the distance and pressed against each other and simply basked in the familiar scent of each other that they had both been denied for too long.

It was always the same, one would think they'd learn after so much time, but still every time they met there was the same awkwardness, the same hesitance, the same fear – always the silent question if they were still ok or if one had moved on, never sure if they could pick up where they left off, but it was always a relief when they could. Naruto tenderly cupped one pale cheek, guiding the other back enough so that he could place a light kiss on his forehead, right on the scar. Gaara turned a little then until his nose brushed the blonde's left cheek, following a single whisker line with a gentle lick and ending with a similar kiss. It was their own personal greeting, a kind of ritual, and when it was done and they stood with foreheads pressed together there were small twin smiles on both their lips.

"You're staying." Gaara murmured finally, slipping his arms around the other figure and burying himself against the strong neck so that the steady pulse beat against his nose. Even the weak grumbles in the back of his mind couldn't quite spoil the moment, not when he had waited and wanted so much to touch Naruto again.

"Of course I am."

It was said with such firmness, with overtones of chiding disappointment, that it denied the illogicality of the statement. Gaara didn't bother to point out all the reasons why it wasn't at all obvious, nor did he ask how Naruto had managed it so the blonde didn't bother to ask why Gaara expected otherwise. Neither wanted to bicker, not just yet, so it was easier to keep their thoughts on the matter to themselves for the time being. Instead, the tan anbu cupped the slightly smaller male's face in his hands, guiding him back and nuzzling affectionately a moment before capturing the barely parted lips in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle for perhaps a few seconds before more than a year's worth of pent-up ardor flared between them, a spark into a blaze, feeding off each other's need. Fingers clenched convulsively in soft tresses the color of dried blood, slender arms unaccustomed to the rigors of taijutsu and weapons training tugged urgently at black cloth, both insistent to get as close to the other as possible as their mouths worked feverishly against each other.

It had been too long, much too long since Gaara had been allowed to indulge himself in the sensations of the fox-boy, the taste and scent like a drug that flooded his system. Slipping through his mouth, filling his lungs, seeping through his pores with every contact… he was utterly addicted.

A part of him always marveled at this, at the quiet desperation which threatened to drown them at each meeting, at the strength and endurance of Naruto's reciprocated feelings. Their kiss was rough and almost brutal, a frenzy of nips and sucks as their tongues dueled, disregarding any pain or discomfort for the sake of the simple satisfaction of the moment. Even the pain on his scalp from the whiskered teen's tight grip on his hair was negligible, nor did that one particularly mind the way Gaara's fingers were digging sharply into his shoulder blades from where the arms were wrapped around his back.

They broke apart with a gasp when Naruto stumbled back into the bed, falling haphazardly on the soft furniture and pulling the redhead down with him. Ragged panting filled the air and Gaara took a moment to settle himself a little more comfortably straddling Naruto's hips before leaning down and picking up right where they left off. Back no longer an option since it was against the mattress, the Kazekage instead opted to run his hands over everything else available to him; the half-covered biceps, the strong neck and broad chest, but it wasn't enough and he tugged at the hem until he could slip a hand under, the other hand holding him popped up by necessity to provide the space to move. A simple carnal delight grew as the taut abdomen muscles jumped at his touch as he moved higher, splaying his hands over Naruto's chest and feeling the rapid heartbeat before mercilessly capturing a nipple and rolling it between his fingers, swallowing the moan that resulted. The calloused hands that had long since locked themselves around the redhead's hips tightened convulsively and tugged sharply so that they rolled together into each other, groaning – a deep instinctual sound that rumbled out from their chests – at the contact.

Naruto moved then, rapidly moving across the slimmer frame and frantically trying to loosen the buckles on the tanned leather vest. Gaara aided him in the effort by bowing his back to make space for the questing limbs, breaking the kiss so that he could bury himself against the tense neck and biting harshly on the thick tendon and delighting in the erratic pulse beating against his lower lip. Despite their rather drawn out affair the pair had never actually slept together – at first because they were mutually insecure and then more from a lack of opportunity than hesitance. A year was far, _far_ too long and Gaara was more than willing to take as much as he could get, and the writhing figure beneath him wasn't putting up any objections.

Fate, though, found the boys to be particularly entertaining toys and decided there was no reason to deviate from the well-trodden path. Naruto suddenly swore. Loudly. Gaara raised himself up to gaze blearily at the blazing azure eyes, confused by the sudden change of mood.

"-_dammit!_" Naruto snarled finally at the end of a series of expletives. Seeing the confused green eyes aimed at him he sighed, curled one arm around the small of the redhead's back as he raised the other hand to gently cup a pale cheek. "I have to go. I got caught."

Now, Gaara had left his sand all around the room and guarding the door, none of which had been the least bit disturbed by another presence so the dumbfounded confusion on how the other man had gotten caught was written clearly across his face. He knew this, so he didn't bother to ask what exactly was meant by that statement, trusting instead for the blonde to continue and explain. He wasn't disappointed.

"I uhh… got distracted." Naruto continued, slightly sheepish. "I lost control of the clone for a minute and Neji caught on." His brows knit together for a moment and the eyes took on a slight glaze as his attention shifted elsewhere. He suddenly gasped and cried out indignantly/ "Ah! That bastard didn't have to stab me _that_ hard!"

For a brief second Gaara was supremely tempted by the psychotic tanuki's ideas about that Hyuuga and had to remind himself that killing or maiming his allies was not a good idea. When Naruto snarled again and moved to get up, he wondered if the Hokage would accept a letter of apology along with a rather battered ninja. He'd even refrain from breaking anything. Much. Maybe. Damn, having a conscience sucked sometimes.

* * *

notes: Yes, I made his Kazekage robes green on purpose... because they're supposed to be green. Blue should be for the Mizukage, silly animator people. Water should be blue, not Wind. 

Also, I find Shukaku extremely amusing so I couldn't resist bringing him back in. Love that crazy alcoholic tanuki!

Review? O:


	2. Chapter 2

The Kazekage walked slowly and leisurely through the streets of his village, a small, forced smile on his lips for the occasional villagers and children who bothered to mind his presence. He didn't really go out and about in the streets often, let alone in daylight hours, as he was usually secreted away in his office or council meetings. This afternoon though he felt the urge to just escape and get away for a while, so he had simply taken off his robes and told Matsuri he was leaving as he walked out the door. Part of him was regretting the impulse, though, as the feeling of people looking at him, even only a curious glance, made him feel awkward – he had never much liked being the focus of attention, after all, since it usually preempted an attempt on his life. It was a conscious effort to keep any of his sand from slipping off the gourd and whirling around him in agitation as he walked.

There was another reason besides the basic desire to get out of the office that brought him out in the light under a cloudless blue sky. A tiny bell chimed merrily as the redhead entered a quaint little shop. A half-dozen customers were already milling about inside, waiting in line or simply chatting with each other or the shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with light brown hair and friendly smiling demeanor. A few turned at the chime to see the newest patron but for the most part they all continued about their business as if his appearance was nothing out of the ordinary. Gaara kept himself to the side, watching unobtrusively as the shop went about its business. After a few minutes a girl came bounding out of the back carrying a basket full of breads and pastries, the pleasant fresh-baked scent wafting over the shop.

"Sorry Mom, I've got the newest batches right here."

The smiling shopkeeper, the girl's mother, thanked her and picked a few for a customer and helped to set them on racks between sales. Gaara stepped into the line a bit to make his way towards the counter, watching the goings-on while still wondering what the hell he was even doing there.

"Kazekage-sama!" the younger girl cried in delighted surprise, bringing a small smile to Gaara's lips as he moved opposite her at the counter rather than the mother. No use backing out now…

"I wanted to thank you for the treats the other night," he murmured. The young one flushed happily and he couldn't help but notice that he now had the attention of the mother and a few other patrons as well. He focused on the child before him and resisted fidgeting. "I wondered if you would join me for tea. As a thank you."

The girl's eyes grew wide but then turned to face her mother with Gaara's pale green gaze following. The older woman crossed her arms over her chest and assumed a thoughtful look while her dark eyes roved the Kazekage's form calculatingly. _I suppose I should have thought of that before,_ he mused to himself; the adults remembered the days of fearing him and while they were becoming more friendly it was still not surprising if they would not choose to leave their children in his presence. It couldn't be helped, not yet, and only time and patience might prove a cure. The redhead was just about to retract the offer when the woman shrugged and waved a hand dismissively.

"All right, you can go. I can take care of things by myself for a while, you know. Just don't stay out too late, young lady!" The admonishment was dulled by the bright smile as her daughter was already cheerfully thanking her and hurrying around the counter. It wasn't until the little blonde was pulling off her apron that Gaara noticed something he hadn't on their first meeting: she had wraps and a kunai case around her right thigh, just below a red Suna hitai-ate.

"Genin?" he mumbled in quiet surprise as they exited the shop, turning to walk down the dusty street to a café Gaara knew of. He didn't remember giving her any missions, so it was a surprising revelation. The petit blonde looked up at him and blinked confused teal eyes for a moment.

"Yessir, I graduated in the last class. Ikari-sensei is our Jounin Instructor." She turned her eyes shyly back to the path. "We haven't done many missions yet, but I'm determined to become a strong shinobi." Gaara said nothing in reply and a sort of awkward silence fell between them as they walked, the everyday sounds of the village seeming that much louder as they passed. The Kazekage realized that he really didn't know that much about his subordinates. True, he read over every file and report, but he just as quickly dismissed the information afterwards as irrelevant. Temari was usually around to prompt his memory when necessary, but he couldn't always rely on his sister now could he.

Gaara stopped when they reached the shop, pausing outside and looking down at his companion curiously. "What's your name?"

"Ah, Tsubaki, Kazekage-sama."

He nodded once in acknowledgement. "I'm Gaara."

"Everyone knows _your_ name, Kazekage-sama." Tsubaki giggled nervously. The older teen quirked a brow as he led the way into the shop.

"I see. Then please use it."

The girl was silent as she followed her leader back to a small table set in a corner of the café, seating themselves on the plush square cushions around the low table and waiting for a server to come by. Gaara particularly liked this place not only for the good tea, including some highly caffeinated blends, but also for the simple seating that didn't force him to remove his gourd like chairs did. Although in all honesty he didn't need his gourd when in his own village – sand was everywhere, after all – a lifetime of habit was hard to break, and with his gourd he wouldn't need to consciously defend himself.

Gaara rested an elbow on one knee with his palm up to cup his face, a small sigh escaping at the motion as he watched the younger girl fidget. "I'm not going to bite." He adamantly ignored the snide grumble in the back of his mind that he did too bite, especially a certain other blonde.

Although she was a little startled, Tsubaki was neither abashed nor skittish like the redhead would have expected, instead she tilted her head to the side in a confused manner. "Of course not, Kazekage-sama–"

"Gaara." He corrected quietly.

"Gaara-sama." Tsubaki agreed with a hesitant nod. A small, lightly tanned hand reached up to idly twirl a lock of blonde hair around her fingers as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I'm sorry I'm nervous, it's just that being with the Kazekage-sama is a little intimidating and all…"

Said Kazekage quirked a brow at that. "Do I scare you?" he asked mildly. Her teal eyes went suddenly wide, as if realizing she may have insulted him.

"Oh no, not at all Ka– Gaara-sama!" the genin replied hastily, surprising Gaara since he had fully expected an affirmative. Even so, he doubted the truth of the statement despite that her earnestness was difficult to doubt. The redhead smirked a little, both at her – real or faked – trust as well as her increasingly flustered appearance. Tsubaki huffed a puff of air up through her bangs and grumbled "Anyone would be nervous around someone they admire."

Gaara hid his surprise by turning to face the waitress, saved from having to make a response as they ordered – oolong for him and chai for her, with a plate of sand cakes to go with. The last comment was still swimming around in his head when they were once more left alone and, like a child pocking at a wound even though they knew it should be left alone, he was sorely tempted to push the subject and ask just what she meant by that. Surely she didn't actually admire _him_, the Ultimate Weapon of Sunagakure, the Demon Shukaku… but as much as he wanted to know he figured it was perhaps more wise not to – what was it Naruto said? – 'look a gift horse in the mouth'.

"Why did you want to become a ninja?" he asked instead, changing the subject with the first topic that came to mind. It still irked him a little that he didn't know who all his shinobi were and it was certainly something he planned to rectify. A good leader had to know all the weapons at his disposal, he told himself.

"My father was a ninja, too." Tsubaki said, her eyes and tone lowering in sudden melancholy. Cool green eyes narrowed slightly; he had not missed the past tense of that statement. She raised her head a moment later with a forced smile. "He was killed in the attack by those Akatsuki a few years ago. He was one of the ones guarding the pass when…" she trailed off slowly and Gaara was a tad confused as to why he suddenly felt a little guilty. _At least I wasn't the one that killed him,_ he reasoned,_ I don't think she'd be so forgiving then._

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, not knowing much else to say and surprised to find himself sincere. That man had died protecting him, in a roundabout sort of way, since the Akatsuki and the traitor Yuura had gone through the guards in order to get to Gaara, the Sand's jinchuuriki.

"Anyway," she continued, "I was already in the academy by then and I didn't want to quit. I just wanted to get stronger." The sudden hard shine of aqua eyes in that small face, drawn as it was with fierce resolve and framed by bright blonde locks, made the older teen eerily reminded of Naruto. It made him smile, if only a little, and Gaara decided then that he liked that little girl.

"I'm sure you will." Gaara stated in reply, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgement of her determination, because he had seen for himself that a strong will could go a long way. Tsubaki blushed awkwardly and fell silent as the waitress returned with their order, setting a tall steaming mug of unsweetened oolong for the Kazekage, a smaller china cup of creamy chai with a saucer of dark sugar cubes before the girl, as well as a plate of the sand cakes that were a specialty of the region, particularly the secret village itself. The little cookies weren't overly sweet, which is why Gaara happened to like them, and went along quite nicely with a nice hot tea. Tsubaki's small fingers carefully dropped three of the small cubes in her drink and mixed the liquid around with a glass swizzle stick while Gaara nibbled a little on one of the treats.

From there the conversation between the two took on a decidedly more casual and simple air, and once the young blonde relaxed she proved to be rather happily vocal. Gaara was content to let her dominate the conversation, listening for the most part and giving his usual short and simple comments occasionally. It was almost surreal, managing to carry on a conversation – such as it were – for so long without overwhelming agitation and the urge to flee. The number of other people he was as comfortable around could be counted on one hand, so the teenaged leader found himself curiously amused when he realized that more than an hour had lapsed and they were through two cups of tea each and he not found himself fidgety or flighty. Not much, at least. But along with this realization came the knowledge that it had indeed more than an hour, almost two if one counted the time since he'd left the office in the first place, and duty demanded he return to his work if he wanted to sleep that night.

Not that missing a night of sleep would really hurt him, but he wasn't really in the mood to stay up all night.

"What is it Gaara-sama?" Tsubaki asked curiously, and if the redhead was better at reading people he'd have noticed a small twinge of worry in there as well. She had broken off whatever she had been saying, whatever that was Gaara wasn't exactly sure since he seemed to have zoned out a bit there, and was now watching him expectantly for an answer.

"Nothing," he answered softly, eyes glancing towards a window to see that the darkening sky confirmed his tardy suspicions. "I just should be getting back now. Sorry."

Gaara shifted himself back to his feet and Tsubaki scrambled up a half-second after, eyes wide and suddenly worried.

"I'm sorry Gaara-sama, I didn't mean to keep you out so long! You're so busy and all and –" her apologetic babble was cut off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"It's fine," he assured her quietly as they walked towards the front, "It was a pleasant distraction." Tsubaki didn't seem assured but didn't argue as she followed, hands wringing together nervously behind her back. The elder teen stifled a sigh; he thought that she was beyond that point by now.

He didn't bother waiting for the check, he knew the approximate costs and just left an amount at the counter more than adequate for the bill, not really caring that the waitress would be getting a gross gratuity. He'd had more money than he knew what to do with for years now, overspending on a bit of tea was hardly consequential.

"Trust me," he continued frankly as they left the shop "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. I'm not that accommodating." Tsubaki just continued to frown, crossing her arms over her chest and even tapping a foot on the dirt path outside.

"Promise?" she asked finally.

Gaara couldn't help but quirk a brow at this, wondering just what it was about girls that made them able to have a total mood change from one second to the next. The girl was relaxed and then she was nervous and then he turns around and she's openly challenging him. It was eerily like his sister, but much _much_ less frightening. "Promise what?"

"That you're being honest, of course!"

"I'm always honest," he muttered wryly "Lying is a waste of effort."

"Good!" Tsubaki chirped, making another dizzying switch to happy and chipper in an instant. "Well, I shouldn't keep you anymore since you're busy. Thank you very much for the tea, Gaara-sama!" Her short blonde tresses shifted as she bowed her thanks, straightening with a smile and waving jauntily as she jogged off towards the bakery again. The Kazekage stood a moment watching as she disappeared.

Honestly, girls were so weird.

Purple and indigo darkened the sky around a pink horizon following the setting sun by the time he got back to the central building, walking slowly through the halls because he really wasn't in a rush to get back anyway. Outside his office a small projectile came flying at his head, being caught up in a fist of sand before it could impact. Lazily he let the item drop into his hands, revealing a wad of crumpled paper.

"You're late." Matsuri told him from where she sat a small distance away. There was a teasing smirk on her lips, so he forgave the little 'attack' and instead hurled it right back at her.

"I wasn't aware I had a curfew." Gaara replied sarcastically and continued walking towards the doors to his office. The brunette aide smirked wider but said nothing more before the door closed shut behind him. Out of years of habit the first thing he did upon reentering abruptly disperse his gourd so that the sand flew out all over the room, filling it with a thick haze and settling everywhere – the walls, the floor, the ceiling, every little crevice of the windows and door until nothing could move in that room without his knowing. But the sand cloud conformed to a shape that didn't quite belong, one which gave a quiet sneeze. Dim green eyes narrowed.

"Is breaking and entering your new favorite pastime?" he asked aloud, controlling some of the sand into tendrils long enough to switch on the lights as he moved towards his desk before letting it settle back down. Naruto was rubbing at his nose in the corner with an adorably bunched up face as though he were trying not to sneeze again. He failed.

"You're late!" the blonde said instead, ignoring the previous question. Gaara clenched his jaw tight against snapping back petulantly that he was _not!_ Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and just stared at the other teen. Naruto never liked silence much and he was rewarded for his efforts a moment later when the anbu sighed exasperatedly. "It's been three days!" he complained, "I haven't seen you since I got here. The others left the next day and I've spent all my time since getting to know the other anbu corps, even some of the jounin and such and I'm running out of people to talk to, but you haven't given me any missions or anything yet so I thought I'd come see you for one myself but you weren't here so I figured I'd wait for you to get back but you took a while so yes, you're late."

Gaara blinked slowly, trying to process the massive run-on sentence and no little bit amazed by the blonde's ability to say so much in one breath. He also highly doubted that he had just stopped by and decided to wait, since there was no way Matsuri would have let him in unattended, so had quite obviously snuck in. Again. He let the suspicion slide though, saying only "I see."

"Gaara! I'm serious!"

"Oh? Normally when one of my shinobi come asking for missions they're standing over there," he raised an arm and pointed to the center of the room across from his desk, "not in corners in the dark." Naruto opened his mouth to protest but the Kazekage continued talking right over him, taking a rather twisted pleasure in the way the other teen was getting irritated. "Regardless, I haven't given you any missions because I don't have any to give you." Unsurprisingly, the foreign anbu just got angry.

"That's not funny," Naruto growled, blue eyes hard like chips of ice and making the other teen shiver at the intensity. "Don't you dare think I'll just sit around the whole time I'm here because you don't want to give me something to do. I mean it!"

"I can't very well have you getting killed, now can I?" he pointed out, amused at how easy it was to goad the blonde's temper, but he continued quickly. "Relax, I'm not coddling you. I really don't have any missions for you. You said you talked to the other anbu, think about how many are still here. Spying and infiltration are limited due to the unstable truces between the nations right now and there haven't been any requests for anything requiring your rank. And besides that I'm not going to cause a diplomatic incident with your village by refusing to let you do anything. So would you please lower your hackles because Shukaku would very much like to smack you right now."

There was a moment of quiet confusion before Naruto slowly did as he was told, calming himself and lowering the chakra output that had begun to flood the room from his agitation. Hard blue irises settled into a more placid shade. The grumbles in the back of his mind took on a different tone; the demon would've liked a fight. Gaara told the whiny brat to shut up and go take a nap while he absently began removing the excess straps that served to hold his gourd, as they were no longer necessary.

Now, while both young men had changed some over the years, Gaara a little more social and Naruto a little more serious for instance, but there were some fundamental things that would likely never change. One such thing was Naruto's tendency to get easily distracted and jump topics with no rhyme or reason. Such jumps, though, Gaara had learned were preempted by a slightly glazed look as whatever strange processes led from one thought to the next churned inside that head. Seeing such a look made the redhead a touch apprehensive and he braced himself for whatever weird turn the conversation might take.

Naruto murmured his name in a distracted voice as he moved closer, stopping only when he was standing directly in front of the redhead. Confused, Gaara raised his eyes to the tan face and hmm'd his attention, only to find that the hazy blue gaze was not looking directly back at him. _I do not have breasts for him to be staring at,_ he grumbled internally in response to one of the demon's snickered comments, _I thought I told you to shut up and go to sleep…No thank you, you can go screw yourself. Just shut up already._ The young Kazekage resolutely ignored the taunting and turned his attention back to the blonde in front of him.

"Gaara," he mumbled again, voice low "you've changed it to black."

While he wasn't sure exactly where that had come from, the pale teen knew at least what the comment meant and fought against the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Indeed." He didn't, of course, mention that the reason his clothing was now predominately black instead of red was because of Naruto's own comment in a prior encounter that he looked sexier in it. He'd been wondering how long it would take for him to notice the change. A low keen was the only warning Gaara had before he found his lips claimed in a rush and didn't hesitate to open his mouth to further exploration.

Yes, he could definitely get used to having Naruto around more often.

The buckles of his vest clinked quietly against the white anbu vest as their bodies collided, arms rising and wrapping comfortably around each other. It wasn't exactly slow and gentle, holds tight and demanding, the kiss deep and almost bruising, but nowhere near the ferocity of just three days ago. Only a minute, a short eternity, passed before Naruto pulled away first. He moved up to press a kiss to the deep 'ai' scar, receiving a similar kiss along his whisker, before burying his nose against the pale neck, nuzzling the fabric and skin and silky red spikes with deep breaths. Gaara merely held him, resting his chin on the broader shoulder and enjoying the close contact.

"I have work to do," he whispered finally, breaking away and stepping back.

"You always say that," Naruto grumbled, letting his arms fall back to his sides as the other teen stepped away. He moved instead to sit on the edge of the desk while the Kazekage sat down in his chair.

"That's because I always have work," he grumbled back, reaching for a file that the blonde was half-sitting on and yanking it out from under him. "Are you sure you still want to be Hokage?"

"Absolutely."

He had only meant it as a joke, but even so the seriousness of the reply was startling… and reassuring.

"That's one of the reasons I'm here, actually." Naruto continued conversationally, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers around one knee. "Beside the fact that I had pestered her for it and she wanted to shut me up, Tsunade no baa-chan sent me here with three specific missions of my own. One of which was watch you. She said that if I wanted to be Hokage, I should watch and learn how other Kage's work instead of just bothering her all the time. Gotta admit she had a good point, you're certainly nothing like her, thank the spirits."

Well now, that was an interesting development. So apparently there _were_ reasons why the Lady Hokage would risk sending out her only jinchuuriki, especially in light of what had led to this mass-trading in the first place. That little tidbit spoke volumes for her opinion of her subordinate and Gaara idly wondered if Naruto realized he was being groomed as her successor. His dream wasn't as far out of reach as it seemed. The Kazekage did not say this though, but narrowed his eyes at something else that had been said. Three missions…

"What are the other two?" he asked.

"That's a 'need to know' basis." Naruto answered with a broad grin. Gaara was not amused.

"I need to know."

"No, you don't." Naruto insisted, oblivious to the glare being aimed at him and just grinning wider. "Not yet anyway. I'll tell you when you do."

He thought about pushing the subject – he was the Kazekage after all, and his substitute leader – but dismissed the idea just as quickly. He trusted Naruto, and if he didn't want to tell him then he trusted that it wasn't important enough for him to really need to know. Yet. That didn't mean he was happy about it, but he would accept it for the time being.

Besides, the bit about learning from him was interesting enough on its own to occupy his attention as he mindlessly skimmed reports. An inkling of an idea was growing in his mind, one that might satisfy both the blonde and that side mission of his. That it would be beneficial to himself as well was just an added bonus, but he would have to find a way to make it happen first.

For the next twenty-odd minutes the Kazekage gave the bare minimum of attention to the reports, files, and requisitions he was stamping and instead focused more on thinking up a logical rationalization for his little plot. It was certainly unorthodox and there was sure to be suspicions and complaints, which he would have to be prepared to counter convincingly. That wasn't going to be pleasant, but it would be necessary. The hard part would be convincing the protesters without revealing too much information; it wouldn't do to make it obvious that he was –

"Gaaaaaara, I'm bored." Naruto interrupted his thoughts with a whine. The blonde anbu was still lounging across the desk, now lying on his side with his head propped on one hand while the other idly flipped through the pages of a book on trade economy that had been on the desk. The redhead was tempted for a moment to suggest he go back to his quarters, but even a bored Naruto was better than no Naruto at all.

"So entertain yourself," he suggested dryly, stamping another folder with approval and setting it on a stack. His first idea had been to have the other teen help, but that could wait for another time perhaps, so he grabbed another file and left his guest to his own devices. Naruto's complaints about the suggestion fell on deaf ears until he finally gave up, hopped off the desk and began wandering the room poking at plants and what little else there was by way of decoration in the office. It wasn't until he got bored enough that he decided to start practicing katas in the middle of the office that he really captured the redhead's attention.

Honestly, how could he be expected to keep his eyes on some boring reports when an exceptionally attractive figure was honing his physique a few scant feet away? It was impossible. Thus Gaara had no qualms setting aside what he was doing to simply lean back and enjoy the show. The anbu uniform was still entirely in place so not a lot of skin was bared, but even so it was easy to see the glide of muscles beneath the tan flesh and tight black shirt as he moved through the forms. He wasn't using the katana, there wasn't really enough room for that, but it was obvious that several of the moves were designed with a blade in mind. Phantom thrusts and parries were made amidst the fluid martial arts movements, a blend of taijutsu kata and kenjutsu. It was easy to imagine a long blade in the strong right arm, the left moving and striking with punches or kunai swipes.

Before he knew exactly what he was doing, Gaara found himself up and moving quickly across the room where he then wrapped his arms around Naruto's waist and pressed himself tightly against the other teen's back. The anbu paused in his practice and the muscles beneath the slender hands heaved from the exertion. The redhead nuzzled the damp hairs at the nape of the other's neck and murmured against the soft skin at the juncture of jaw beneath the ear.

"You're distracting," he whispered huskily, pulling the blonde tighter against him so that he could feel the effect of his little display. Naruto turned his head to the side so that he could see Gaara and there was a sly grin on his lips.

"Oh really?"

Gaara growled and nipped at his jaw warningly. "You're doing this on purpose. Stop it. I can't afford so many disruptions. If you keep this up I'll have to make you leave." He tightened his grip momentarily and nuzzled the cheek against his nose; he didn't want to do it, but he'd make good on the threat if he had to. Naruto just sighed and twisted within the circle of arms until they were face-to-face and pressed their foreheads together.

"Sorry," the blonde apologized quietly, warm breath washing over the other's lips, "It wasn't intentional this time, but sorry."

"Hm, good. If you behave until I finish up for the night I might even give you a surprise." The Kazekage smirked and disentangled himself to head slowly back to his chair. He picked up the discarded report and eyed the curious anbu who was still standing in the middle of the office, obviously resisting the temptation to pry. Taking pity on him, Gaara murmured casually "Maybe I'll give you that assignment you came here for."

The excitement that suddenly brightened in the azure eyes just about made up for the delay.

* * *

"It's a bad idea Kazekage-sama." Baki insisted, not for the first time since the council meeting had begun. Most of the other councilors were nodding and murmuring agreements. Kankurou, who wasn't technically part of the council but sat in on meetings often enough, remained silent throughout the debate and Gaara wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not.

"That's right," another councilor added, an aging man who had been on the council since his father's reign. He swept an arm out to point at the figure standing a few feet behind the Kazekage's chair. Gaara didn't need to follow the gesture to know that Naruto was standing there, shoulders straight and arms clasped behind his back in rigid attention, full anbu uniform on down to the fox mask hiding his features. "There is no precedent for the Kage having a personal bodyguard, especially during peacetime and in his own Village."

"Irrelevant." Gaara answered dismissively. He understood their concern and was even mildly touched by it, but he was getting a little tired of them questioning him about it. Doubtless several would even still welcome his death, anyway.

"It is foolish," yet another man snarled, slamming his fist on the table, "to have a foreign assassin as your bodyguard. The risk is too great."

"He's not going to kill me," the young leader responded adamantly, biting back an irritated sigh at the way the debate was spiraling back on itself. "There have been assassination attempts on my life since I was a child, none have succeeded yet." He hoped they wouldn't recall his kidnapping and death four years back, but that had been a rather unique case and not really an assassination attempt, per se.

"We are only concerned with your safety, Kazekage-sama," Baki continued, trying a softer tactic.

"He's not going to kill me," Gaara repeated firmly. With a purely mental sigh he flicked his hand and motioned to Naruto to remove his mask. Hushed confusion settled around the table as they took to whispering to each other. Most, if not all, recalled the blonde's role in his rescue from the Akatsuki and were rapidly trying to process his presence.

A loud, barking laugh broke the tension and all heads swiveled to where Kankurou was chortling loudly and slapping his hand on the table. That… wasn't exactly the response he'd expected from his brother.

"He's right," the puppeteer managed finally, controlling his mirth down to a low chuckle. "That guy won't kill him. Dear Desert, people! He's had better opportunities than this to try to kill him before and I'm pretty sure assassinating Gaara isn't on his agenda." The councilors still weren't quite convinced and wore uniform skeptical expressions, but Kankurou was still snickering. "If that guy wanted to kill him he wouldn't have saved his life so many times, now would he? Besides, who better to catch an assassin than another assassin?"

It still took another twelve minutes to convince the council to accept his decision, time which was mostly filled with their continued complaints about his safety – as well as some issues about seeming favoritism of Konoha – but with his brother's and Baki's support they finally sucked it up and let him have his way. Besides, Gaara may have gotten saner over the years but the old men still knew that when Sabaku no Gaara wanted something he damn well better get it. So with that matter settled, they moved on to the regular council discussions which included supply reports, trade requests, the imminent arrival of the last two village shinobi as well as reports from their Suna operatives that had already arrived at their assigned village, and rumors of a small gang of bandits attacking low- or un-guarded caravans to the south. Throughout the two-hour meeting Naruto remained poised like a statue behind the Kazekage's seat, immobile and unobtrusive behind his mask, and Gaara hid a smile as he knew that his new bodyguard was watching the proceedings carefully.

The young leader was honestly surprised, though, when his brother confronted the pair of them while the council was quietly exiting the office. The puppeteer waited until the room was empty save the three of them before speaking, addressing the anbu.

"Despite what I said before, you'd better not hurt him."

"Kankurou…" Gaara growled threateningly, but the elder male ignored him and kept his attention focused on the blonde beside him.

"I mean it, you hurt my little brother and I'd have to try to kill you, and I'd really rather not do that since I'm pretty sure you can kick my ass, too, but you see what I mean." The words were light but the tone was not. Shukaku snickered in the back of the redhead's mind and quipped that he'd actually like to see that happen. The vulpine mask lifted to reveal a smiling face, but there was no teasing or mockery in his expression.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Naruto assured firmly and sincerely. Kankurou grinned broadly and winked before striding resolutely out of the chamber without another word.

Gaara blinked in dumbfounded surprise at whatever that was that had just transpired. He had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that his brother was being protective of him and the high-pitched cackles resonating in his head weren't helping. _Go to sleep you damned 'coon!_

"So," Naruto drawled in the sudden silence, not bothering to replace his mask and leaving it resting on his short spikes instead, "what do we do now?"

"I want lunch." Gaara stated simply as he began walking out of the chamber.

"Ramen?" the blonde asked hopefully, closing the door behind them both and scrambling along after as they walked briskly through the halls. Green eyes flicked briefly towards him but otherwise paid him no attention.

"Whatever."

The pair continued on in relative silence, stopping by the Kazekage's office just long enough for Gaara to deposit his robes – pointedly ignoring his guard's leer and the tanuki's comments about stripping technique – before leaving the building entirely and walking through the dusty streets. He decided to forgo his gourd, leaving the sand strewn across his office, and walked through the village clad only in black pants and long coat. As far as he was concerned it was a blatant sign of trust on his part that he would go out without his automatic defense in the presence of an assassin. He could practically hear the complaints of the councilors already, as well as literally hear those of his demon.

Twice during the walk Naruto asked where they were going but received no reply. It wasn't until they entered a semi-large sandstone building and the happy murmurs of conversation and the familiar smell of noodles wafted over them that Naruto broke into a wide grin and threw his arms ecstatically around the pale teen.

"RAMEN!!"

Gaara watched with a smirk as the blonde instantly regressed ten years and darted into the shop quickly to claim a table to the side and immediately bury his nose in a menu. Some things never changed and Naruto's love for ramen was certainly one of them as well. Seeing the other teen mumbling to himself over all the different selections, a cute frown of concentration on his tan face, made the surprise of their destination worthwhile and the redhead couldn't help but smile a little as he sat across from him at the table.

"I can't decide!" Naruto burst out suddenly, a curious mix of delight and horror chasing across his features as he looked directly at his companion as though asking for help. "There's so much to choose from!"

"Close your eyes and point." Gaara suggested dryly as he skimmed his own menu. He actually wasn't really in the mood for ramen… maybe some udon.

"But there's so many new things that I've never tried before." Naruto continued, nose back in the menu and blue eyes darting wildly across the pages.

"So try one of those." _Hmm, maybe some soba instead. I haven't had that in a while._

"But what about the classics? There's miso pork here, too!"

"So pick one of _those_." Gaara grumbled lowly. _Eww, that's just sick!_ He snapped at the demon's newest unpleasant remark. _Just… stop talking. Shut up and go to sleep. … I don't care if you're not tired, leave me the hell alone. _

Oh how he really, really didn't miss being a jinchuuriki.

"Hey there, are you two ready to order?" a polite waitress asked, a pretty girl around their age with a pen poised over her notepad. Naruto opened his mouth to speak but the pale redhead could practically hear the barrage of questions about to spew forth at the poor unsuspecting girl and moved to intercept.

"I'll have a hot tea," Gaara said instantly, interrupting Naruto before he could begin and receiving the instant attention of both he and the waitress. "and some cold soba with an order of oyakodon. He," he gestured vaguely towards the teen sitting opposite him, "can't decide what he wants so please just pick any three dishes for him, it doesn't matter what as long as they're ramen."

The waitress dutifully noted the orders down, despite the rather odd request, and left promptly to fill them. The anbu's blue eyes trailed after her a moment, mouth slightly agape, before swiveling back to pin Gaara with a cool and calculating gaze that he returned just as calmly. A few seconds ticked by.

"So, I don't get a drink?"

A mild glare and a tendril of sand upside the head was his answer.

* * *

notes: Yes, I added Matsuri. As much as I despise filler, I thought it was kind of cute that Gaara had a fangirl, so I put her in. And I started this before they added her in Shippuuden following Temari. Eh, oh well. 


	3. Chapter 3

"All right, I understand why you have all these trade agreements, but what I don't understand is why you're taking some of your imports from one country and turning around and exporting them right back out to another." Naruto was holding several folders and loose papers with a small frown of confusion. He was sitting on the corner of the Kazekage's desk, a spot he had claimed in the two weeks since being assigned as the leader's bodyguard, blatantly ignoring the chair that had been brought in for him and instead using the added furniture to stack up files his body displaced from the desk on top of like an impromptu table. "Wouldn't that just be a loss of profit or something?"

Gaara continued to skim a mission report from a chuunin team while he thought about how best to explain the irritatingly convoluted system of economics. The anbu currently sitting cross-legged on a third of his desk space had been helping him with his work for a little over a week. Gaara had figured that since Naruto wanted to learn what it was like to be a Kage, he could see what the work was like too. On one hand, having to take time to explain things to the blonde made things progress rather slower, while on the other hand having help actually increased the pace with which he could get all the work done, so in the end it about evened out. Naruto was getting better, though, so the speed was slowly beginning to outweigh the delay.

"Because one of Earth Country's chief exports is metal ore that they mine out of all their rocky mountains," the young leader began finally, judging a request for research funds as lacking sufficient information and put it into a pile without being approved. "which is used by all villages to forge weapons like kunai and shuriken and the like. Unfortunately, this country's mostly desolate; not so much near the borders but the things that manage to grow there aren't enough to provide a steady staple for our exports."

"Yeah I read that somewhere," Naruto interrupted with a thoughtful frown, "Wind Country mostly specializes in cotton and spices, right?" The redhead nodded absently and continued.

"And glass, but it doesn't travel very well. Some of that stuff is grown in oasis towns nearby that pay this village some in tithes in return for habitual guardianship by our shinobi, so we have a semi-independent trade income besides the general staples spread across the country – which are technically belonging to the Nation Lord – but at any rate our exports usually don't match our imports from Earth. That country is rough terrain so they import a lot of grains and food staples that they can't grow themselves, such as rice from Rain and even Waterfall and wheat from Grass." He paused then and glanced surreptitiously at the other male, his silence prompting an answer.

"So… you have to use some of your imports from trade with other countries to balance out your deficit with others…" Naruto guessed slowly, grinning cheekily when he got a nod in reply. He turned back to the files in his hands. "So then it's all right to approve these trade itineraries, right?" Gaara nodded again and the blonde reached across the desk, narrowly avoiding the petit hand as the other teen scribbled some notes, and grabbed the Kazekage's personal stamp, pressing it into the inkpad a few times and stamped it forcefully on each of the files. He blew on the pages a couple times to dry the bright red ink before snapping them closed and tossing them on the spare chair, which had perforce become his "Done and Approved" pile.

The chaos, disorder and general messiness that had assaulted his office in the past week occasionally grated on Gaara's nerves. Order and organization were his preferred state of life. The redhead bit back his protests and endured it, though, because he wanted Naruto near him more than he wanted a clean office. He told himself this as the precarious pile on the chair slipped and several of the top files slipped off onto the floor.

He could deal with it. Really. It was like early training for living together – if the desert ever froze over and _that_ little fantasy became possible. Hah.

_If you laugh any harder you're going to choke, bastard. _

Gaara finished up with mission reports and moved onto the new mission requests that needed ninjas assigned to them. Given that anything regarding missions was still confidential to the village, he couldn't pass any of them off to Naruto to check out and help with, thus he did each of them personally.

"Don't you have people to help you with this?" Naruto asked with a sigh after a few more minutes passed. "I mean, I know Tsunade no baa-chan doesn't really do her job much but even then I know people help her, and Iruka-sensei is usually helping assign missions and such. So how come you don't have people helping you and you're cooped up in this room all day doing it all yourself?" Out of sheer laziness, the blonde quickly created a clone to pick up the scattered documents off the floor rather than get up off the desk himself, and dismissed the construction after it had put them back on the chair. A second later the top one slipped off again. Naruto decided the damn things were evil and out to thwart him.

"I do have help," Gaara answered coolly, not even bothering to raise his eyes. "Baki usually goes over anything that pertains to political matters, like those trade lists you had a few minutes ago. Kankurou sometimes checks the requests and requisitions when he has time, and Matsuri goes over all the mission reports and requests. She usually notes a suggested team for a lot of the genin ranked assignments and even a few of the higher ones occasionally. Temari used to help me like this when she wasn't on assignment."

"That reminds me, where _is_ your sister anyway? I've been here almost three weeks and haven't seen her. She been on a long mission or something?"

"You could say that." Gaara agreed, smirking at the irony. "Who do you think you're replacing here?" The pure surprised confusion that blossomed on the tan face was comical.

"You mean you sent your own sister to Konohagakure?" Naruto asked with a degree of incredulity, turning his full attention to the redhead sitting a small distance away. "Are you serious?"

"Of course."

The anbu seated crossed-legged on desk spluttered a few times at the simple and direct answer. "_Why?_" he managed to choke out after a confused moment.

"Why not?" Gaara returned simply, quirking a brow and setting aside the current file – a request for assistance from the greenhouse gardeners to save the plants until the broken hydration systems could be repaired – to give his attention to the other teen.

"She's your sister, and you just sent her off to another country? What if she had gotten attacked on the way? What if something happens to her?" He began to flail a little as he worked himself towards a small frenzy.

"Your Hokage sent you here, didn't she?" the petit teen pointed out dryly, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together in his lap. Naruto scowled.

"That's different," he protested, "baa-chan knows I can take care of myself just fine, and _she's_ not my sister. What if something happens to her while she's taking my place, huh?"

"What does it matter?" Gaara asked simply, frowning a little and honestly confused as to why Naruto had a problem with it all anyway. "Temari can take care of herself. She's my sister, after all. I'd had every intention of sending her to your village as soon as the exchange was suggested." The blonde opened his mouth again, doubtless to ask 'why' again so Gaara continued with a sigh. "She's in no more danger there than she was here. Besides, she wanted to go."

"Wait, so she asked to go? Are you serious? I always heard her complaining about it whenever you made her our liaison."

"Of course she does," the Kazekage agreed lightly, "But she likes it nonetheless."

"Whatever you say. Shikamaru's not going to thank you for it, I can tell you that. Another 'pushy troublesome woman' to deal with." He snickered pitilessly and the redhead's slim lips pulled into a smirk.

"That was the general idea, yes."

One could almost see the wheels turning behind the blue eyes as Naruto processed the comment… and the implication. "Are you saying that Shikamaru and Temari are…? Oh wow…"

The Kazekage stood from his chair quietly and stepped up to where the blonde was sitting, leaning forward and laying his slender palms on the desk around the black-clad hips, pausing as their noses just barely brushed and their breathes mingled. "You didn't really think I was the only one to be attracted to a shinobi of the Leaf, did you?" He didn't wait for an answer and closed the distance for a kiss, which was instantly and eagerly returned. Gloved fingers tangled in his hair as the anbu moaned into the mouth that claimed him, arching into the touch. Gaara explored the warm cavern slowly, lazily, reacquainting himself with the unique taste that he had become completely addicted to in recent weeks, despite the added taste of ramen that now never seemed to fade. Perhaps he shouldn't have taken Naruto out to that restaurant, the crazy boy had been returning on a nearly nightly basis ever since, trying out all the new flavors. But ramen was a part of him, just as highly caffeinated drinks were a part of Gaara, so he accepted this as another facet of the young man he cared so very much for.

For an instant they broke apart as Naruto unfolded his legs and moved them to hang over the edge, Gaara pressed against the edge of the desk between his thighs, and used the grip he still had on those bloody-tinted spikes to dive back into the kiss with abandon. Shukaku growled in protest – he didn't like the youko _or_ the host – and pointed out that he was developing a rather nasty habit of giving in to distractions, especially while working. The redhead ignored the complaints, both because he didn't much care what the brat wanted and because he also knew that he was right. He shouldn't allow himself to get distracted, he was the Kazekage and had a village to look after, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care. It had been years since they'd started their strange little affair, sporadic and secretive though it was due to their distance. Meetings, summits and occasionally missions were all that had afforded them time together, so now… to have the object of his desire so close at hand for such an extended period of time was almost euphoric, and Gaara couldn't help but give in to the temptation while he could.

Smooth hands, unguarded by a thin veneer of sand, lifted from the cool tabletop to place themselves instead upon the black-clad hips, fingers flexing against the firm muscle and savoring the warmth radiating from the trim body. He tugged demandingly, yanking the enticing blonde closer and they rocked their bodies together with a low groan. Strong thighs tightened against his hips, denying him an escape that he didn't even want. Satisfied that he had thoroughly remapped the blonde's mouth, Gaara broke the kiss to delicately lick a trail along the middle whisker-line of the tan cheek down to the jaw, where he proceeded to nip along the length back toward the juncture and suckle on the soft skin below the ear. Naruto groaned, back arching and head falling back to bare his throat for further attention, as he leaned slowly back. Not needing the hold on his hair to guide him, the redhead followed the figure down, raised his hands from the rolling hips to fumble deliberately at the latches of the white anbu vest armor as he continued to nip and nuzzle at the strong neck. Said anbu decided it was a fantastic idea and released his hold on the soft tresses to tug at the white swathes wrapped around Gaara's neck, working the sash free and pushing it, along with the white robe, over the slim shoulders. The green robe below was, unfortunately, harder to remove, so he satisfied himself by returning the treatment to whatever pale skin he could reach.

A low growl rumbled in Gaara's chest as he finished with the armor, raising himself up enough to begin to pull the offending garment off. Naruto assisted by arcing and twisting to free himself as it was pulled off him whilst quickly removing the white bracers and gloves from his arms, so it was only a short interruption until the pieces all got thrown aside carelessly and they both rushed together in a heated kiss, picking up where they'd left off with fervor. With no more boundaries, the feel of warm flesh and silken hair on skin that felt oversensitive from deprivation sent a thrill of pleasure through the blonde, racing like a shock just below the skin, as he threw his arms tightly back around the lean shoulders above him.

Hungry lips swallowed a deep moan as the young leader slipped nimble fingers under the tight black sleeveless top that was the anbu's uniform shirt, palm exploring the new territory, touching all the trembling flesh available and brushing only teasingly across nipples. One of Naruto's more sensitive spots, he knew quite well, and he exploited the knowledge ruthlessly until the blonde was breathing hard and tearing frantically at the Kazekage's robes of office.

"Too many fucking layers, Gaara!" the usually-cheerful shinobi snarled quietly, breath ragged as he turned his full attention to removing the green robes, hissing when he succeeded only to meet another layer – his usual black clothes. Gaara smirked but otherwise did not comment as he was divested of some of his robes.

Strong tan fingers moved to the bindings of the black coat but paused when the redhead once more ground their bodies together, forcing another set of moans that ended more as a growl out into the air, and Naruto shifted his goal then to scrambling farther on the desk. Books and files fluttered, landing on the floor with a thump as they were shoved haphazardly out of the way – well, there went the last semblance of organization in the room, not that either figure cared. Lust had sunk its talons deep in the two young men, clawing brutally out through their bellies across every fiber of their being. Eyes and limbs beckoned the dazed redhead forward, demanding he climb up on the desk and continue to sate his appetite. He did not resist, on the contrary Gaara followed the silent order and came up to straddle the rolling hips, the thick black fabric of his coat flaring out over their legs.

On top of a desk wasn't the most comfortable of places for such endeavors and certainly not anywhere Gaara would have preferred, but he was past the point of caring – about comfort, about setting, even a little bit about romance. All that mattered anymore were the sensations that pervaded all of his demon-heightened senses, the sight of the glazed azure eyes as he toned figure writhed in pleasure, the unique taste of the teen's lips and skin, the heady scent of arousal that was thick in the air, the feel of the quivering flesh and muscle underneath his questing fingers, and especially sound of each little gasp and groan the escaped the kiss-bruised lips. He cared only to slake his need, to be as close as physically possible and then merge deeper with the blonde. His blonde. His Naruto. The thought alone sent an electrifying jolt of desire arching along his spine and Gaara keened as he once more attacked the swollen lips, kissing him savagely, possessively, lovingly.

Cool air on his neck surprised the redhead for a moment, he barely had time to realize that his jacket had been opened before teeth were biting down on the corded muscle of his neck and his whole body shook in reaction. His own weak spot, and Naruto was exploiting it just as ruthlessly, biting and then salving the mark with licks and kisses before beginning the onslaught again.

Shukaku snarled from within his prison, demanded they stop, that enough was enough. _Oh yes_, Gaara agreed, _enough is enough_. He was just beginning to relieve the anbu of the rest of his uniform when alarms sounded at the edge of his mind, an intruder at the edge of his sand perimeter and moving towards the office.

_For the love of…! EVERY TIME!_ Two and a half weeks of nearly constant contact and something always managed to come up just when things were getting interesting.

His first instinct was to kill the interloper for daring to disturb him, his second was to merely block the door with his sand and keep the newcomer out and still living, but he recognized the chakra signature and knew that he could do neither to Matsuri. The younger girl was his friend, one of the few he had, but more than that she was his assistant and whatever she was bringing to him could be important Kazekage business. So many thoughts in just a heartbeat and his decision was made.

So Gaara did something he rarely did, he swore darkly in a loud whisper and pulled himself away from his not-yet-lover with an angry hiss.

"What's wrong?" Naruto asked, gasping quietly and eyes hazy as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Company." Gaara said shortly, sliding off the desk and tugging the blonde with him. There was only about thirty seconds before the girl would make it into the office and panicked green eyes scanned the office quickly; there was no way to clean up the mess in time. Naruto was already pulling his armor back on, but there wasn't enough time for that either. The pallid leader quickly fixed the closures on his jacket, forgoing the robes as taking too much time, and managed to get a few of the folders straightened back on the desk.

Ten seconds, she was almost to the door. Naruto was still dressing, fumbling awkwardly with the straps and swearing in frustration under his breath. There was a small knock on the door and both heads rose towards the sound, eyes wide like startled animals. No time! Gaara grabbed Naruto, shoved him down behind the desk and out of sight, grasping the mask at the last second and tossing it down to join its owner. He barely managed to settle back in his seat and clasp his hands together on the desk before the door opened to reveal the brunette girl.

"Gaara-sensei, there's a package here for you." Matsuri intoned cheerfully, coming into the office but her steps slowed as her eyes wandered the room.

"I see," the Kazekage replied tonelessly. She turned her attention back to her leader with a very curious expression, stopping a few steps away from the desk.

"Where's Naruto-san?" she asked, once more scanning the room as though she might have missed him the first time. Said ninja was cramped under the desk trying not to snicker, bumping against the black-clad knees as he strapped on one of his bracers.

"An errand." Gaara lied smoothly. It was an effort not to look down at the blonde, sufficing with the peeks he got in his peripheral vision as he kept his gaze trained on his assistant. Her nose wrinkled slightly in thought.

"Really? I hadn't seen him leave…" she trailed off, inviting elaboration but Gaara provided none. He was more focused on presenting a veneer of calm that he in no way felt, answering in clipped tones when necessary and trying futilely to force his body to calm and the blood he felt sure was staining his face to fade. It was difficult when Naruto began trailing his fingers up his thighs teasingly. "What did he have to do?"

"Get a broom," he deadpanned despite the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips; he had easily followed her confused gaze to the mess of books and files littering floor. She blinked, trying to figure out if it was a joke, before shrugging one shoulder in defeat and placing the parcel on the desk. Gaara's hands were clenched tightly together, knuckles white from the strain, so he didn't dare to reach for the object. The gloved hands on his legs were inching higher, kneading alternately at the clothed muscles, and the blue eyes sparkled mischievously from where Naruto was resting his whiskered cheek against the redhead's knee. His mind betrayed him with very naughty thoughts given the blonde's position as he fought to appear outwardly calm. "Is that all?"

"Yessir," Matsuri answered, stepping back. She tilted her head a little to the side thoughtfully before continuing. "Are you all right, Gaara-sensei? You took off your robes…"

"Fine," he answered crisply, fingers twitching briefly as the inside of his thigh was teased. "It was hot." That wasn't exactly a lie, either. He really wished the girl would leave already; it was taking all his self-control not to moan aloud.

"All right then, don't work too hard Gaara-sensei. Remember to relax every once in a while," the chuunin girl admonished gently as she took herself out of the office. It almost made him laugh because working too hard definitely wasn't his problem at the moment. He waited until she had passed the edge of his sand perimeter before sighing gustily and using his hands on the desk to push himself back. Naruto lost his hold and his hands slipped down until he was kneeling hands and knees on the floor. The redhead slipped off his seat immediately, coming down to kneel before the other figure and, eyes bright, grasped either side of the tan face and pulled him into a deep, soul-searing kiss that left them both breathless.

"You're going to pay for that," he growled menacingly, nipping at Naruto's lower lip to emphasize his point. The growl, emanating from deep in his chest, as well as the silent possibilities in the threat, made the blonde grin as a pleasant shiver rolled through his body all the way to his hair.

"Promise?" he purred back. Gaara hummed but did not answer, stood instead and moved to pick everything up off the floor and regain some semblance of tidiness. With a small, disappointed sigh, Naruto joined him and started with the folders he had pushed off the desk.

Minty green irises appraised the swathes of white and green robes for a moment, debating putting them back on – they were official robes and he should wear them, but it was just as true that he sometimes felt hot under the many layers. Was it really so necessary to wear them? Most of the time all he was doing was paperwork, alone in his office with hardly anyone to see him. It was tradition, yes, but… he sighed mentally and folded up the material carefully to set aside. He would not put it back on, not just yet. And he did not miss Naruto's faint smile at this decision.

"So, what was in that oh-so-timely package?" Naruto asked a short time later, perched once more on a corner of the desk and flipping through the gathered folders in an attempt to re-sort them. Rather than answer, Gaara picked up the box and sat down in his chair.

The parcel was of a moderate size made of thick, heavy white paper that folded together on the top to seal the box. It wasn't heavy, seemed rather lightly packed, even, and there was a small card nestled into the top. He picked it up, turned it over and then back again, but there were no words. Just a hand-drawn image of a flower.

A camellia. Tsubaki.

Ah, so that's where he had seen the box before. He found himself smiling as he set the card aside carefully and opened the box, Naruto's bright eyes watching avidly though he pretended not to. Inside was a small trove of baked goods, mostly confections, all arranged with obvious care so that they would not smash into each other.

The nineteen year old leader was unprepared for the sensation – not pain, not exactly – that burst from his chest and made him ache, but in an oddly pleasant way. He had been surprised and flattered and pleased by her first gift, but he was touched beyond logic at this second gift. Hand-drawn and hand-picked and hand-packed, sent specifically to him; the unexpected emotions nearly floored him. At the same time, he felt rather guilty that he wasn't fond of sweets, as it would take him ages to stomach everything he had received.

Well, that was all right. Gaara smiled shyly, something he was unaccustomed to but felt helpless to stop as a sort of giddy excitement flitted through his system, and held out the box to the blonde. "Cake?" he offered simply. Naruto grinned broadly, abandoning the files to hover over the offering, eager eyes roving the selection of treats and, though he felt suspiciously like a child filching a candy when he knew he shouldn't have it, reached for a delectable looking orange cream pastry that vaguely resembled a cupcake but was much, much better. He hummed his appreciation as he tasted the confection, making Gaara smile more while he himself selected one of the less-sweetened items to nibble on. It was just as delicious as the orange thing sounded and he knew it wasn't just the heightened senses.

When he had taken the little baker girl out to tea, it had been as a sincere thanks for her gift as well as a kind of childish hopeful desire to explore something new: a being that did not fear him. He wanted to see if that kindness was feigned or if it lasted past the first awkward greeting. Her easy acceptance of him had been more than he had dared hope for, and now… now it was his turn again. Finishing the pastry quickly, Gaara stood and began shuffling through the files again, looking for one that had caught his eye before. _Where is it_, he thought to himself, _the greenhouse assignment_. Files were opened quickly, scanned for their contents and slapped closed again when they failed to provide the wanted information and he moved onto the next. Where had it gone? He had not assigned anyone to it yet, he was sure. _The greenhouse grows herbs and spices, I'm sure many of them are used in baking._ Another wrong folder; he moved to the pile Naruto had been examining. _It's only a D-ranked mission, but she's genin and newly graduated. Maybe she'll be able to enjoy the plants anyway_. Shukaku mocked him for his sentimentality but he ignored the beast. Gaara had few enough pleasures in life, he would not let the whiny bastard steal any more from him. Naruto continued to watch him and even voiced his curiosity, as well as an offer to help, but took another pastry when no reply was forthcoming.

Ah! There it was, half under the desk. He grumbled silently to himself because the anbu currently lounging on his desk and eating his present was supposed to have gotten everything off the floor. So, when he realized that he didn't even know if Tsubaki's team was already on a mission or not and that he'd have to search all over again to find the listing of free shinobi looking for assignments, he got a perverse sort of pleasure out of ordering Naruto to find it for him. There, let him look while Gaara ate a cookie.

"There you go," Naruto produced the list with a flurry, settling himself back on the edge and leaning across the desk to have better access to the dessert box. He chose a danish and crooned happily as he munched on it. "These are gooooood."

The Kazekage paid him no mind, his attention instead on the listing before him as he searched for one specific team – what was the instructor's name again? Ikari? – and was pleased to find the team on the inactive list. He removed Matsuri's note for a suggested team from the mission request and filled in the information for his own choice. He'd rather do more, but it would have to suffice for the time being. For now, he had to get back to work and make up for the prior… distractions. With a quick and sure movement, Gaara slapped shut the bakery box against questing fingers, noting that it was already a third empty but was amused rather than irritated. He hadn't planned to eat all the sweets, after all, so it was just as well that Naruto was so obviously enjoying them for him.

"Help me clean this mess up," he ordered the anbu quietly, moving the box at little further out of reach and began collecting the files once more and sorting them into piles again. Naruto sighed, disappointed. Gaara quirked a brow and stared at him levelly. "Who was the one who shoved them around in the first place?" he asked pointedly. Though he seemed to want to retort, the blonde didn't answer and sheepishly bent back to work anyway. It was with a small bit of dismay, tinted with tones of embarrassment and irritation, that he realized the sheer amount of data that was overrunning his office. In the past there had never seemed to be so much work, so he had to wonder if, despite his usually-best intentions, he was letting Naruto's presence distract him more than he could afford.

As Kazekage, Gaara had willingly assumed a powerful mantle which unfortunately also carried with it a hefty dose of responsibility. The duty to protect his village and all its occupants he had expected, the bureaucracy and paperwork was an unwanted bonus. Regardless of its severe lack of appeal, it had to be done and he had sworn to do it, so willfully accepting a distraction for the sake of his own personal desires would be succumbing to a level of incompetence that he was loathe to go near. Gaara didn't want to be that kind of selfish leader, and furthermore he doubted his blonde inspiration would want him to be, either. No, Naruto would not become that kind of Hokage, that was not his way.

As much as he hated it, the redhead knew he had to admit to the likely possibility that he had in fact been shirking his duties while he enjoyed the attentions of the Konoha anbu, and accept as well the likelihood that he may have to call an end to the bodyguard assignment. Cold tendrils curled around his stomach unpleasantly at the thought; he didn't want to distance himself from Naruto, not when they had so little time together as it was. Shukaku all but purred at the newest train of thought, goading him that it was the best choice if he gave up his little fantasy and concentrated on what was really important: his Village. The tendrils twisted into knots, a heavy lump weighing him down. He wanted to insist that _Naruto_ was very important to him as well and felt terribly traitorous for the thought.

"Hey Gaara, where do you want this?" asked the blonde, unaware that he was at the center of some rather unpleasant musings. Distracted as he was, Gaara blinked owlishly a couple times as he cleared his thoughts and focused on the object in Naruto's hand. It was a private message scroll, still sealed. He wondered how he could have missed it and, as he closed his slim hands around the roll to take it, hoped that it wasn't something urgent that had required his immediate attention. The afternoon was well on its way into evening, after all.

A light snicker didn't quite make it into the air as cool green eyes scanned the succinct script across the scroll's surface. On the one hand, the words provided a welcome relief to his current predicament. _Idiot_, the redhead scolded himself_, of course there's more work. I have all the usual as well as reports from my shinobi in the other villages, the ones that have come here, and having to keep up friendly alliances throughout this trading experiment._ It made sense, of course, that given what was going on the paperwork would likewise increase. He wondered with chagrin why he hadn't realized that before, but when Shukaku sneered quietly Gaara aimed a mental kick at the beast's cage. _Bastard._

When the relief faded the intended meaning of the missive set in, replacing one worry with another. There, on the other hand, was written proof of some of his Councilors' primary complaints.

_Oh hell_.

* * *

The next day found Gaara wandering a maze of white-washed corridors and resolutely refusing to admit that he was lost, even to himself and the annoying voice in his head. White walls, white ceilings, white tiled floors… the building was rather disturbing on a level he was unfamiliar with. The sterility was creepy even to a psychopath; it made him want to splash the walls with red, decorate in blood. Turning right at the next intersection led him into a corridor that looked just like the one he had come from, but he continued anyway. Like a maze, perhaps if he just kept taking rights he'd eventually find his destination. People in the halls looked askance at him, obvious in the heavy white robes which were uncomfortably similar to the walls, but he didn't ask any of the staff for directions. 

He was the Kazekage, he was _not_ lost in a hospital.

Not that he didn't have a perfectly valid reason for being unfamiliar with the building, as he'd very rarely stepped foot within a hospital throughout his life. He had the ultimate defense so he didn't _get_ hurt to even need to see a medic. No doubt another reason for the curious looks as he passed. At the end of another bland corridor was an area behind glass doors that had a decidedly 'waiting room' feel to it, with a spattering of women sitting on the chairs that all raised their heads and swiveled their attention toward him as though they were one entity. Gaara paused, glanced quickly over the many pairs of eyes trained on him, noted the large letters OBGYN above the reception window, and decided it was prudent to beat a hasty tactical retreat. Two more corridors down he felt it was a safe enough distance from the room teeming with estrogen to pause. High-pitched demonic laughter was not so easy to escape. _I've had enough of this_ he snarled to himself and closed his eyes with an irritated frown, pulling some sand off of his armor to form the _daisan no me_. With the optic connection complete, he once more opened his eyes and sent the third eye in his palm off to search the building for him.

Seven minutes and many wrong turns later, the enrobed teen found his destination and set off at a brisk walk towards that end. Irritatingly enough, the room he had been looking for for over half an hour was located a short distance from where he had entered the building. It figured.

Despite being the Kazekage, he didn't wish to disturb the room's occupants and paused in the doorway to observe silently until an adequate lull presented itself. There was no point in incurring a medic's wrath by being disruptive during a healing. Said medic and her current patient were the main sources of color in the disconcertingly sterile room, perched on and beside an examination bed as though a centerpiece to bland décor. The medic had her back to the door as she examined her patient so Gaara couldn't gather much of her features, nor could he recall them well to memory. The patient, on the other hand, was poised facing directly opposite the exit as he was examined and a small frown of pained confusion pulled at his features as he stared at his leader, but he did not speak out while the mess of wounds – mostly blades, Gaara noted, slashes and a few punctures – marring his body were force-healed by chakra.

Still silent, Gaara frowned imperceptibly at the bloody jounin. One of his own, recently returned from an escort mission, he recalled, moderately but not seriously wounded in an ambush. Dark rimmed eyes narrowed a fraction in displeasure. Those bandits were really getting to be tiresome. With half an ear he listened to the medic prescribe rest and limited activity as she bandaged up the freshly healed wounds, and forbidding missions above C-rank for at least three days while the injuries completed the healing. The jounin replaced his vest with thanks and she cleared away the excess gauze. It wasn't until the shinobi bowed and offered a quiet greeting to the Kazekage that the medic noted his presence. He returned the greeting absently and let the man pass; inside he was mildly perturbed. Even medics were trained first as shinobi, she shouldn't have been totally unaware of his presence despite his silence. She turned towards him, bowed respectfully and straightened again to stand stiffly with her hands clasped behind her back. During this, Gaara scrutinized her further.

She was young, younger than himself by a few years, even, and quite small. Petite or delicate seemed a fitting description. An average skin tone, neither pale nor dark, on an equally average face that could be considered pretty but not exactly beautiful. Her short light brown hair and dark eyes were not out of place in Suna, but her clothes marked her as foreign immediately, wearing a tight blue suit that encased her body from neck to calf, where it disappeared into a pair of almost-black boots whose design was mixed with that of standard shinobi sandals. Above the blue was a short white skirt, a thick belt holding several supply pouches to her hips, and a small white bodice that laced tight over a moderately sized chest but left the blue fabric over the midriff exposed. Over it all was an open, dark gray duster coat. The final touch, as if it were needed, was the hitai-ate marked with four vertical lines tied loosely around her neck and the single wooden umbrella strapped to her back. Calculating green orbs noted such things in the short moment it took for the medic to bow and straighten again. This was indeed Mizore of Amegakure.

"Kazekage-sama," the girl greeted curtly – for she was still only a girl, just fifteen if Gaara recalled and judged correctly. She stood ramrod straight as she waited. "Can I help you?"

Gaara shook his head slowly. "I just came to see how you're doing," he told the girl, making a half-hearted effort to put a tad more emotion into his usual monotone. "You've been in Sunagakure several weeks now." A flicker of confusion ghosted across her features before she schooled her expression back into that of polite attention. Curious…

"I see. I thank you for your concern but I am quite well."

The response was simple and crisp, manner detached and almost frosty without quite being so cold. It was interesting, and although the redheaded leader would have been perfectly content to accept the assurance and take his leave he knew that he had come for a reason and duty demanded he make more than a token effort. A pity that he had not been able to bring Naruto with him; the blonde had exceptional practice at dealing with aloof people, Gaara included, whereas he himself was used to being the distant person rather than dealing with them. It would not have been politic to have his bodyguard, though, so he had bade the other young man to amuse himself elsewhere while he went out.

"What do you think of this village?" Gaara asked, attempting once more to initiate some form of conversation, contrary to his nature though it was he had no choice. The missive he had received had been from Baki, warning him of whispers of favoritism from the rumors that he was being attended by the Konoha representative. The rumors were true, of course, but the fact that such whispers were one of the Council's chief arguments about his assigning Naruto as his bodyguard meant that he now had to work to rectify his recent neglect of the other representatives. If he failed to do so, the Council would be justified in pushing for him to retract the assignment and issue a different mission to the anbu, which he was not at all prepared to do. Thus this day was devoted to seeking out and paying personal attention to each of the representatives currently accessible within the village and not out on missions.

"It is different, sir, but not unpleasant."

"Oh?" Gaara prompted, swallowing irritation at her continuing terse replies. He was not at all accustomed to being the one to have to seek conversation and more and more he wished Naruto were with him. Mizore's lip twitched briefly in what Gaara guessed was mild irritation.

"It is hot and dry, Kazekage-sama, and I come from the Village of Rain. The differences are extreme."

"I suppose it is. Are you doing all right in our climate?"

This time her eyes did grow colder. "I'm faring well, thank you."

Just what _was_ it about girls that made them so difficult? Gaara stifled a sigh and persisted. "I'm interested to hear any opinions you may have on my village or its workings. This is a diplomatic exchange for peace and learning, after all."

So the medic proceeded to do just that, rattling off a series of opinions that were more like casual observations with an occasional tactful suggestion in a curt, detached voice. It was strangely like hearing a mission report – all fact and no emotion. The irony of her similarity to himself was not lost on the Kazekage. He could well imagine the horror of his siblings if they knew of two such frigid brats in the world, one of him was more than enough for their tastes.

"Excuse me, but is there anything else you wish of me?" the girl asked after finishing her 'report'. A smirk pulled at Gaara's lips, for once amused rather than hurt that someone so obviously wished to escape his presence.

"You don't like me." A statement, not a question. "Why?"

Frigid didn't even begin to cover the depth of coldness that washed over her young features.

"You killed my brother."

Oh. Well, shit. That put an entirely different complexion on things and Gaara took a moment to firm his sand armor further, idly missing his gourd – but no matter, he could break down the whole building to be his weapon if he needed it, though he hoped he wouldn't as the staff would be very upset with him. He frowned and tried to recall all the Rain shinobi he had killed but it was rather difficult – his kill list was rather high. It had to have been years ago, Gaara hadn't had much opportunity to kill people since becoming the Kazekage, but he hadn't been particularly sane in those years either. _Yes it's your fault_, he snapped irritably at Shukaku,_ it's always your fault. Go choke on your tail while I try to fix this. No you can't eat her!_ Not that he was exactly sane now, either, he noted to himself dryly.

"Seven years ago at the chuunin exam," she prompted in a low hiss, body tense and rigid and dark eyes locked on him menacingly. The teenaged leader frowned deeper as he drudged up the memories.

Ah, right. He'd killed an Ame team in the Shi no Mori exam segment – their blood had made beautiful rain as he recalled. Cool green irises once more appraised the angry medic. _The tall one, probably_, he surmised, judging by the features they seemed to have the most similarity,_ the one that provoked me._

"So you remember?"

"Yes." A small, tense silence followed the admission. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Why?" she snarled quietly. Her hands were no longer clasped behind her but instead fisted tightly at her sides, shaking with visible effort to restrain herself – from rage or anguish Gaara couldn't guess, but he raised a brow ridge at the simple question. _What is she asking me? Why do I remember or_ "Why are you sorry?" Mizore demanded, completing his thoughts in an eerie echo, but continued without giving him time to reply. "You're a murderer, Kazekage-sama. If you could defeat my brother's team then there was no reason to kill them. It was murder."

"Was," he corrected quietly, "but no more. And you are correct, I did not have the same regard for life that I have now. I wonder why you came, then, if you hate me so much. Have you come to avenge him?"

Mizore reeled as though struck, straightening once more until her back was painfully straight and erect, wrapping herself in a manteau of pride despite the tear that escaped her lashes and rolled unheeded down her cheek. "_No_," she answered firmly, indignantly. "I chose to become a medic so that I would not have to kill. I have no wish to inflict my pain upon another, only to try to spare them from it. Now, if your business with me is concluded, Kazekage-sama, I would like to request that you leave. I am expecting another patient soon."

"Of course," he answered smoothly, tilting his head in a not-quite-mocking acknowledgement before turning abruptly to exit. No more than a step out before he paused, back still to the room, and raised a hand to absently trace his scar, or rather where it was beneath the armor. Without turning he spoke quietly to the girl in the room. "It may mean nothing to you, but I truly am sorry. I learned many things during that exam, one of which was that all lives are precious, as well as the bonds that hold them."

"People don't change," was her cold answer. The redhead smiled a little and dropped his hand.

"Perhaps," he conceded, "It's what they've told me all my life, after all. I choose to believe otherwise."

With that he strode away down the pristine halls. If she spoke again he did not hear it, not a sound followed him as he turned the corner and made toward the exit. It was refreshing to escape the hospital, the painfully barren landscape was almost depressing, and the heavy dialog had not helped the atmosphere. The Kazekage hoped, as he headed down the dusty streets towards the Academy, that his next meeting would not be so sour. With this thought in mind, he didn't proceed with any particular haste toward his next destination, moving instead at a sedate walk through the streets. At least this next jounin was the last he needed to see for the day. Of the seven foreign shinobi currently working for him, he had already seen to the jounin from Kusa, the medic from Ame – oh how pleasant _that_ had been! – and was now on his way to see the jounin from Kumo. While the latter two were stationed in the village itself, the former was conveniently between missions. The two jounin from Taki and Kiri as well as the hunter from Iwa were still out and the Kazekage would have to catch them when they each returned. The seventh, of course, was Naruto… and he had no need to check the status of that particular shinobi, as he was quite well aware of his status.

Turning his thoughts inward, Gaara decided it was prudent to review the information he'd read off the files that morning before arriving. The shinobi from Kumogakure was the eldest he had received, a jounin retired from active field duty due to a non-lethal disability to become an Academy teacher in his home village. Like Gaara had offered up an unorthodox anbu to Konohagakure, Kumogakure had been the only village to offer a teacher to Suna in trade. It was strange but the Kazekage had no problem with the proposal and scoured the thin ranks of Suna's teachers for someone willing to travel across the five or so countries separating their two villages. Gaara turned a corner and found the Academy building in sight a small distance ahead, musing as he walked that as much as things had changed since he had attended the curriculum was no doubt changing more due to the introduction of yet another foreign teaching tactic.

The gates to the stone building were open and inviting, washing a wave of nostalgia over the redhead as he passed – though not particularly pleasant nostalgia, it was a place of many painful and angry memories for him. He was halfway to the main instruction classroom when he realized that the mass of unsteady chakra signatures weren't in the direction he was expecting and he turned abruptly to follow that signal instead. Behind the Academy building was an open courtyard used for some training as well as general recess for the younger students and this is where he found the errant class.

Throwing shuriken.

At each other.

Gaara stopped and blinked, sure that he was seeing things wrong – because as harsh as Suna's old methods had been they had still never been _that_ rough… not like Kiri! – but no, the sight remained the same and the students continued to use each other as target practice. For a moment he was horrified at the realization that he had subjected his future shinobi to the tactics of a madman and he opened his mouth to demand what was going on when one of the children yelped as he was struck by a shuriken. It wasn't the sudden cry of pain that gave Gaara pause, but instead the fact that the shuriken popped in a little cloud of smoke upon impact while the child rubbed at his wounded shoulder with an irritated scowl. A moment later he was dodging another projectile and launching his own as he ran, but there was no blood where he was struck.

Just what in the name of the desert sun was going _on_ here?

"Oh! Why if it isn't Kazekage-sama," an elderly gravel called cheerfully and Gaara turned to see the Kumo teacher approaching him. The aged man was a full head taller than Gaara, dressed in the typical brownish-green jounin uniforms of his country, save for the gray color of the sash over the jacket and the multiple pouches hanging from it at the back of his hips. His tanned leather face had a long scar on the left cheek, running from the corner of the mouth up toward the outside of the eye, and the lines around his mouth showed a long habit of smiling. "What can I do you for?"

"Raiun-san," the village leader greeted simply, still glaring slightly from his reaction to the children's exercise, only to realize that the other man couldn't see his displeasure; his graying black hair was held back by a gray Cloud hitai-ate that was worn not across the forehead but instead lower over both eyes, with some more fabric peeking out under the right side and covering more of the cheek. There was no way to see through that much cloth and metal. Instead he continued tersely, letting his displeasure be known by his voice. "What exactly is going on here?"

"What do you mean?" Raiun asked genially.

"You students are using each other as target practice."

"Oh that, they're just playing Dodgeball."

Gaara stopped, thought about the simple response, and articulated his confusion on the matter with a simple "What?" After all, there weren't any balls to be seen anywhere.

"Dodgeball!" the teacher repeated cheekily whilst reaching one gloved hand into a small, bright bag being held by the other and removing something tiny which he then popped into his mouth. "Well, not exactly Dodgeball, because I'm sure you noticed the lack of balls, but it's based off that children's game where I come from. 'Dodge the pointy things being thrown at you' was a bit too long for a name, don't you think?"

Gaara blinked dumbly a few times at this explanation and decided that asking 'what' again wasn't likely to provide him with better answers the second time around. Raiun continued talking, apparently quite willing to continue talking once he got started, intermittently popping strange colorful things out of the bright bag into his mouth as he spoke.

"See, the actual game is played with a ball that the kids try to throw at each other; a 'last man standing' kind of thing. I just replaced the ball with shuriken and let 'em go. Much better practice than a stationary target, if I do say so myself, and without any casualties."

"Fake shuriken," the shorter male pointed out, finally kicking his mind into gear about the subject despite its strangeness. At the very least he knew that the shuriken had poofed on impact and the child had been unharmed. "Without the actual weight and feel of real shuriken then such a practice is pointless. The children will just have to relearn how to throw once they get the real thing."

"Of course not," Raiun scoffed, "They're all weighted like the real thing. Look," he dusted off his fingers and reached into one of the pouches on his hip, pulling out a shuriken and holding it up to display and even urging the younger man to hold it. Not exactly a master at the projectile weapons, the weight seemed about right to Gaara and he handed the object back with a confused quirk to his brow, even if it couldn't be seen. When he was sure he had the Kazekage's attention, Raiun closed his hand tightly around the shuriken, but instead of piercing flesh the chunk of metal exploded into a small cloud of smoke and when he opened his hand again there was a small ball of metal where the weapon had been. "Henge," he explained unnecessarily.

"You transform lead pellets…" Gaara surmised dubiously, still staring at the chunk of metal in the other man's hand. The point of the exercise still eluded him; what was the point of making fake shuriken when there were perfectly real ones to use? He also still doubted the validity of fakes being used to teach and held to the suspicion that the children would still have difficulty adjusting to true weapons. "Explain to me why transforming pellets into fake shuriken and having your students throw them at each other is a good idea…"

"Magic," the teacher retorted, chewing idly on whatever the strange little snacks were and oblivious to the irritation he was causing. "They're all going to have to throw them at real moving people eventually, might as well get them started early. A moving target hones their accuracy better than a stationary one." The short redhead had no retort to this logic.

"I see. Do all the students in your village get trained in this fashion?" he wondered.

"All the ones I teach do," the elder man answered with a grin. He reached for another treat out of his bag – was that _candy?_ – but instead of eating it Raiun flicked it out into the courtyard where it hit one of the boys in the forehead with enough force to halt him with a wince. "Ryuusuke!" he hollered, turning his blind eyes towards the student, "That's three hits you've taken now, you're out. Five minute break and then start practicing your hand seals with the others."

The boy grumbled but complied, walking out of the mass of children still targeting each other towards another set sitting against the stone wall practicing seals and studying jutsus.

"Cherry," the aged jounin said simply, drawing Gaara's attention back to where he was looking sightlessly at one of his treats, this one yellow, before popping it into his mouth. "I can't stand the cherry ones. Lemon are the best." Raiun held up the bright plastic bag in offering. "Sour Patch Nin?"

"Ah, no. Thank you," Gaara politely declined, fighting a twitch at the corner of his eye at the absurdity. He decided to change the subject. "Can you even see?"

"No?"

"How do you keep track of the students, let alone hit them, if you can't see?"

"Magic."

The young Kazekage waited almost a full minute but no further explanation was forthcoming. As much as it pained him, he was inclined to agree with Shukaku's assessment that the old man was perhaps a tad senile. Why the hell did all the villages send him crazy people? As if having a voice in his own head wasn't bad enough. Was he to be collecting a lunatic carnivale now?

"So, what brings the Kazekage-sama out here to the Academy?" Raiun asked, chewing on his candies and flicking the red ones at slacking students and calling out orders to them. "I assume of course that you didn't make the trip just to see what I'm doing to your younglings."

"Indeed. It has been brought to my attention that I have been remiss in my attention to you seven participating in the exchange," the pale redhead answered simply, crossing his robed arms over his chest. The sooner he got this over with the sooner he could _leave_, and at the moment he was pushing his social tolerance. "I've come to see how you're doing so far in my village."

"Oh? I'm quite fine, thank you. The dry weather is a little harsh on my skin, you know, but a generous use of lotion is helping with that, eh? Locks in moisture in my poor old hide."

"I see," Gaara muttered. Really, did every single one of the foreigners have to mention the weather? They came to a desert. It was, by definition, _hot_ and _dry_. The man ate a handful of candies at once and continued cheerfully.

"But I do say it's a rather nice wasteland you've got here. Clever how that little mountain range you've got surrounding this village works as a defense wall as well as a way to conserve nightly chill to lower the daily heat. I don't doubt that guard duty up on those walls is an unpleasant prospect, though. Would you be terribly upset if I had some of the older children run races on the tops of the mountain wall?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yes! They could run relays along the top. On their hands! With shiny colorful streamers. It'll be glorious!"

The mental imagery made the dumbstruck teen shudder in horror. _Dammit Shukaku stop fantasizing about eating people!_ The irritating tanuki chose the most awkward times to chime in and be bloodthirsty. _We are not going to eat him… he'd probably give you indigestion anyway._ Gaara thought it wise to once again beat a hasty retreat, though this time for rather different reasons. Mizore's deep-seated hatred of him was almost welcome compared to this… this oddity. Before he could speak though, he was thwarted in the attempt by the appearance of a very familiar figure beside him, a small displacement of sand the only evidence of his abrupt stop. The chakra signature was masked tightly, although Gaara could still feel it like a faint tingle at the back of his senses, he was able to recognize Naruto more by scent than feel. Before he could ask why he was there, the anbu held a finger up to the vulpine lips of his mask in a bid for silence.

Thoroughly confused and no little bit disturbed, Gaara complied and watched as the other teen silently produced a small white item between his fingers – was that a _marshmallow?!_ – and flicking it at the blind teacher. Raiun caught the sudden projectile effortlessly and popped it into his mouth with a smirk.

"Ah, Naruto-kun eh? An orange for you," he declared before returning the attack with an orange sour candy from his bag. Naruto's shoulders slumped with chagrin as he caught the candy and slipped it into his mouth beneath the mask.

"Damn, I thought I had you that time Lion-san."

"You lost me?" the old man asked quizzically, but rather than be confused like the poor redheaded bystander, Naruto chuckled as though it were some hidden joke. This did not make Gaara feel any better about the situation.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded of the blonde instead, figuring it was probably a safer topic than anything involving the old man.

"Oh, we got worried about you so I thought I'd come look for you in case you got lost or something."

"We?" the Kazekage asked tightly, gritting his teeth in annoyance. Get _lost_? In his own village? He ought to strangle the idiot for even suggesting it – except that Naruto was usually worthwhile to keep around. Most of the time. Why did his best friend have to be so damn sexy _and_ infuriating at the same time?

"Yeah. You know… the little birdies told me so."

Oh, dear desert sands…

The crazy was spreading.

Rather than continue in that inane discourse, he turned back towards the old Kumo teacher. "So Raiun-san, you're enjoying your stay in Sunagakure?" he asked pointedly.

"Oh yes, quite so!" the elder beamed cheerfully, crumpling up his mow empty bag of Sour Patch Nin and pulling another colorful candy bag from his hip pouch. Gaara was not quite convinced.

"Are you going to be all right?" he pressed, against his better judgment and fearing what the answer would be.

"Of course, but can the Gummi Worms really live in peace with the Marshmallow Chicks?"

… It hurt to even contemplate that particular question.

Gaara turned instead towards the blonde next to him. "Why do I even bother asking?"

Naruto tapped a finger against the chin of his mask thoughtfully before shrugging. "I dunno. Maybe it's all part of some huge, cosmic plot formula!"

Lunatics, the lot of them!

That was enough and more than enough. Gaara twitched, grit his teeth against the ridiculousness, and turned abruptly to walk away. He didn't wait for Naruto to follow, just tossed out a thin, hardly-visible tendril of sand like a leash and forced the anbu to follow him. Naruto called his name once or twice as they walked hurriedly through the darkening streets, but gave up and let himself be yanked along until they reached the office. It wasn't necessary, of course, and the redhead knew that the other teen would follow him even without the enforcement, but he was also couldn't deny that he rather enjoyed having such a binding on the energetic Leaf-nin and would take advantage of it for as long as he was allowed. Even so, it couldn't quite quell his growing irritation, despite the outwardly calm façade he projected as they walked. He did not speak, not as they walked through the darkening streets or even through the building, not even when they reached the relative security of the office and the door shut firmly behind them both. He only moved swiftly towards the windows at the back and stared tensely out over the twilit landscape of his village. Gaara found himself feeling irritated, and angry because he wasn't quite sure why he was so irritated in the first place.

"Uhm, Gaara?" Naruto inquired quietly from where he stood near the desk. There was a slight tug on the sand as the blonde wrapped his hand around the tendril and pulled pointedly on the leash. "Is this really necessary?"

Rather than answer, he merely released his hold on the sand and let it drift slowly to the floor. Without turning, he posed a question in return. "What were you doing there? I thought I told you to take the day off." A hint of accusation slipped into his tone but it was too late to call back, so he just waited for an answer. He did not much care for being disobeyed, even by someone he cared about.

"I was just coming to check on you," he answered cautiously, brushing at non-existent specs of sand on his uniform, "You were gone all day, and it's my job to look after you, after all."

"That's why I gave you the _day_ off, Naruto."

"I wasn't aware that meant I wasn't allowed to see you."

"You knew I had work to do."

"You _always_ have work to do!"

"I'm the Kazekage!"

"ARGH!" the blonde snarled in frustration, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a crime to want to see you."

"It is when you're disobeying my commands," Gaara answered quietly, eyes narrowed at the glass as he watched his companion in the window's reflection. He told himself not to feel bad for the angry and hurt look that blossomed on the other's face; the anbu brought this on himself.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't run off like a good little boy," he grumbled darkly, "Sorry that I wanted to check on you, to make sure that you weren't working yourself into the ground as usual. Sorry that I figured it was safe to stop by when you were just chatting it up with Lion-san, I didn't realize that it would throw you into a hissy fit, _Kazekage-sama!_" The title dripped venomously from the tight lips and the leader winced internally. His own anger was quelled a little in the face of Naruto's own temper, but another point of contention rose to take its place.

"Just what _was_ that about, anyway?" he demanded coolly, finally turning to face the other shinobi. "How do you know each other? And why do you call him 'Lion'?"

The anbu pursed his lips in annoyance at the subject change but went along with it, adopting a slightly aloof air as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Of course we know each other, we all know each other. I call him Lion-san because that's his name, like Kakashi-sensei is 'copy-ninja Hatake' and you're 'Gaara of the Desert' he's 'Dandy Lion'. He's been in Bingo Books…"

"Not in Suna's," the Kazekage uttered dismissively, then blinked as the words set in. "Wait… '_Dandy Lion'?_" he repeated incredulously. "You're telling me someone called Dandy Lion is actually in Bingo Books? What does he do, kill people with flowers and sugar?"

Naruto gave him a very reproving stare and tapped his foot, causing a rather irritating staccato beat against the stone floor.  
"Fine, whatever," Gaara growled, dropping the subject as not worth thinking about. Seriously, _dandy lion_, that man was either stupid or had no shame to go by a name that sounded like a happy little flower. "What did you mean, you all know each other?"

A quizzical frown pulled at the tan features and Naruto explained in open confusion, "We all – meaning those of us that are part of the exchange – already know each other," he repeated slowly, "We're all quartered in the same area, after all, it was inevitable that we'd meet. About a week after I arrived, Raiun-san and Hirame-san invited the rest of us in to get acquainted over tea." Naruto paused to scratch at his cheek thoughtfully, "I guess the tradition kinda stuck, we've been having the same little get-togethers about twice a week or so, with whoever of us that are available at the time."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Was I supposed to?"

The honest bewilderment helped to diffuse Gaara's irritation even further, but still he sighed and sank slowly into his chair, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the soft leather. "So that's why there's rumors going around now," he murmured aloud without opening his eyes. The anbu wisely refrained from comment. "I've spent the day playing gracious host to the others because of suspected favoritism, only to find out that they know because you've been having weekly tea parties with them."

A quiet whisper of fabric in the silence alerted the Kazekage to movement and he opened tired green eyes to see blonde moving towards him, carefully climbing onto the chair and straddling his legs. Gloved fingers brushed across his cheek and there was a small smile on the lips of the darker jinchuuriki.

"I didn't tell them, Gaara," Naruto murmured gently, "but it was bound to happen. Did you really think that no one would make the connection between my constant presence here and your sudden new appointment of an unprecedented bodyguard?" Gaara didn't answer except to scowl darkly, so he continued, "It's our job to suspect, you know that. But I can tell you, at least, that I highly doubt anyone honestly suspects favoritism or secret plots and the like. Don't worry so much."

It wasn't a comfort though, and the pale leader leaned forward to bury his nose against the black-clothed neck and breathe in the familiar scent. "But they're right," he admitted slowly, "and I can't afford for them to realize that that I _am_ favoring you. You, not your village – not exactly, at least – but others won't see it that way. I shouldn't…" he trailed off and reached out to wrap his arms around Naruto's waist, forcing the other to shift his legs as he was pulled closer, and nuzzled against the neck with a sigh. "but I can't help it; I want to spend as much time as I can with you, perhaps even at the risk of my competence as a leader."

For his part, Naruto didn't try to offer empty reassurances. He merely wrapped his arms around the slim shoulders with a sad sigh and ran his gloved fingers soothingly through the bloody red tresses. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're incompetent Gaara. I'll talk to the others and try to find out what the really think, all right?" He twisted a little to place a soft kiss on the temple, the only place he could reach while the redhead was still resting against his shoulder. "I want to spend time with you too, as much as I can, but I don't want you to get in trouble on my account. We'll find a way to make things work out, hm?"

Gaara didn't answer, only hummed a little and shifted his grip to try to pull the other teen closer. Naruto laughed quietly and pulled back, gently guiding the shorter shinobi back to look at him. Tired eyes blinked up at him in protest, but fluttered shut again when the blonde moved to tenderly press kisses on the dark lids. It still amused him that even after years of being able to sleep, Gaara still looked like a raccoon. Well, fifteen years of insomnia wasn't going to be cured by four years of sporadic sleep; the circles were a little lighter, slightly more gray than the dark blackish color that had stained his eyes a few years prior. Maybe in time, a few decades maybe, they would fade away entirely. Smiling, he pressed another kiss to the 'ai' scar.

"It's been a long day, why don't we head to bed for the night?"

Not bothering to speak with a simple grumble got his point across, Gaara nevertheless allowed himself to be pulled up out of the chair and led out of the office. He even deigned to let himself lean heavily against the blonde as they walked, resting his cheek against the bare shoulder and matching steps so that they didn't jostle against each other. Frankly, it had been a long day filled with far more social contact and forced pleasantries than he was normally capable of and he was past his limits. Added to that was the irritation that had erupted and all in all he felt rather drained.

Quietly, the two reached the Kazekage's room and stripped out of some layers, pulling on some of the simple nightclothes that the redhead had kept stored in the room. The blonde smiled and coaxed his pale friend into the bed, lying down and letting the smaller teen shift and settle against his side, half draped across over his body and cheek resting over the beat of his heart, lulling the tired male further towards unconsciousness.

"Sweet dreams, Gaara," Naruto murmured and received a drowsy murmur in reply as the pair slipped off to sleep.

* * *

notes: I know nothing about politics and trade. If anything to that degree doesn't make sense... ignore it?

What can I say? I like TemaShika, I think they're a cute couple and would like if they'd be canon.

I hate character creation, but there's not a lot of living non-evil foreigners in the Narutoverse to draw from. Still, Raiun amuses me greatly and I had much fun writing him :3 Thankies to doragon for making him up for me.


	4. Chapter 4

Contrary to popular belief and expectation, Gaara did not like coffee. Also contrary to popular belief, it was quite possible to find teas even more highly caffeinated than coffee. So, besides the fact that coffee wasn't a particularly major import in Suna nor was it at all palatable to a small child, Gaara grew up with a heavy addiction to tea. He drank it every day and frequently in large quantities. Since he had lost his demon and the necessity to remain awake every moment of his life, he had been able to cut back on the caffeine intake and branch out into other blends, because even if he didn't _have _to drink it anymore he still liked it. It became a kind of ritual for Gaara to have at least one cup of tea every day, as long as circumstances permitted. Being the loyal secretary that she was, Matsuri had learned of this habit and had taken it upon herself to bring him a pot of tea when he was busy and even to join him on occasion.

However, today she had opted to return to her own work and leave him to enjoy the rooibos tea she had brewed for him, a caffeine free type that was healthy and good for the body. Gaara didn't mind this, and although the very slight nutty flavor to the tea was strange, he enjoyed it nonetheless.

A certain bloated tanuki demon, on the other hand, was not enjoying it so much and chose to make his displeasure well known. Thus the Kazekage endured a loud tirade he could not escape as Shukaku bitched and whined for twenty-seven minutes until Naruto returned from the errand he had been sent on carrying a few sheaves of paper. At that point the demon stopped, and Gaara allowed himself a moment to hope that maybe the beast would finally shut up, but as the door clicked shut the rant began again and the redhead hissed in frustration and resisted the temptation to beat himself into unconsciousness. The problem with having a voice in your head – other than your own – was that there was no way to escape it when it started getting annoying.

It didn't take a genius to notice the Kazekage's irritation, so Naruto set the papers on the desk as he circled around and claimed his usual seat on the corner. "Are you all right, Gaara?" he asked cautiously. A glare was aimed at him for that question before the redhead forced his expression to smooth.

"I'm fine," he bit out slowly, "Shukaku is just being pissy right now."

"Why?" came the obvious question. With a slight grimace, Gaara merely swung an arm out and blue eyes followed the length of the limb to where a pale finger was pointing at the tea tray on the desk. Naruto blinked. "I don't get it…"

"_Shukaku_," the redhead hissed the name like a curse "has an extreme dislike for teapots. He seems to feel the irrational need to remind me of this fact today, very loudly and incessantly." He winced again and pressed the heel of his hand against his temple as though to stave off a headache. "He won't shut up; keeps saying I should be drinking sake instead. Alcoholic bastard."

"Ahhh," that one drawn-out sound spoke volumes for the blonde's sympathy and understanding. "I'd wondered how much you could hear him."

"A lot." Gaara snarled emphatically.

Humming thoughtfully, the foreign anbu slipped off the desk so that he only leaned his hips against it and regarded the village leader. "I could help with that, if you want…" he offered slowly. A quirked brow showed the other's curiosity and prompted him to continue. "Help shut him up, I mean. For a little while at least, it'll wear off in a few days and he'll be able to speak to you just as clearly again, but it could help for now."

"How?" Gaara asked, curiosity piqued. _Anything to shut YOU up, bastard._ The beast cackled, sending another pike of pain through his head and he hissed darkly.

"Eh… That's a little complicated," the blonde temporized, but he stepped away from the desk and moved to stand in front of the Kazekage's chair, bowing down a little so that he could look directly into the pain-hazed eyes. "You're just going to have to trust me."

Skeptical but curious, the seated teen just snorted and allowed Naruto to do as he wished. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be surprised when the first thing he did was start tugging at the Kazekage robes. Unfortunately, it gave the demon another point to start complaining about.

"You wear too many layers, Gaara," the anbu sighed as he unwound the neck swaths and pushing the white layer over the shoulders. When he realized that he couldn't just push things out of the way, as the green robe beneath didn't open so easily, he tugged the bemused redhead up out of the chair and began fully stripping the robes off and letting them fall to the floor, unheeded. He then guided the leader back to his chair and sank to his knees on the floor, turning his attention to unlocking the vest buckles and removing the leather garment.

Through it all, Gaara said nothing; he simply watched the blonde's antics and wondered how losing his clothes could possibly shut the demon up. If anything, he seemed to be getting louder. It wasn't until the gloved fingers were working at the clasps of his black coat that he moved, leaning forward to nuzzle at a whiskered cheek before capturing the slightly-parted lips and pulling the anbu into a long and thorough kiss.

"Mmm, what was that for?" Naruto asked as they broke apart, their noses bumping together a moment as he finished with the jacket and moved to push it open. But the redhead pulled back and blinked a few times in obvious confusion.

"Why else were you taking off my clothes?" he wondered by way of reply.

The tan anbu clucked his tongue and chuckled. "Tempting, but that's not why," he assured. He then turned his attention to the pale chest now bared before him, and when his clothed fingers ghosted over the left pectoral Gaara finally got an inkling of what the other intended, which was confirmed by his next words. "I need to see your seal, can you use a bit of chakra for me?"

Interest now thoroughly captured, and not only by the possibilities presented by having an attractive blond shinobi kneeling between his legs, Gaara gathered a little chakra to fulfill the request, until the lines and swirls of his seal showed black against his skin. Naruto murmured his thanks and leaned closer to study the marks that scrawled across half of the leader's chest, centered precisely over the heart.

"What are you doing?" Gaara asked finally, curiosity getting the better of him. Blue eyes flicked up to him for a moment before returning to their study.

"Mission number two," he explained, "check on your seal."

Well, well, that was interesting indeed. The Kazekage mulled over this tidbit as the anbu continued to brush feather-light caresses over his chest. Naruto had mentioned three personal missions before but had refused to enlighten him on what the other two had been, now after a month in the village he was speaking about one. While it left him curious about the final mission, it made him wonder why Naruto was sent to check his seal at all. Being thus confused, he decided to simply ask the question.

"Why wouldn't I?" the blonde retorted, with a brief look that implied it was a silly and obvious question, "First of all, your seal was based off of mine. Second, one of my teachers was something of a seal specialist and I very carefully studied my seal while learning from him – he helped baa-chan make yours, you know. Finally, in case you had forgotten, I was there helping seal this brat into you again, using my – all right Kyuubi, _our_ – chakra to keep the sealers from killing themselves trying; I made sure to study it carefully first. I'm one of the few people who actually _is_ qualified to check on it." Unable to refute the logic, Gaara remained silent.

"Well," Naruto continued after another moment of study, "your seal is blending like mine, not that it's particularly surprising since they're so similar. I assume you use his chakra sometimes otherwise you shouldn't be hearing him so much yet; I hadn't heard the Youko until after I started tapping into his reserves when I was twelve. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with it so I can help shut him up for a while if you like, but you're really going to have to trust me," he stopped and looked up, caught the green gaze and held it as he asked somberly, "Do you trust me, Gaara?"

"You know I do," he answered just as seriously.

Naruto smiled, a warm and gentle smile rather than one of his wide and cheeky grins, and began tugging off his bracers and gloves. "That's good to know," he murmured as he pressed himself closer and turned his blue eyes once more to the black seal, "because I could very easily kill you doing this."

Shukaku howled his protest, throwing himself against his confines and sending a spike of pain through the redhead's skull. Gaara himself, though, didn't even so much as flinch as the tan fingers ghosted over his skin; he meant it when he said he trusted Naruto, even with his life. A pale blue glow clouded around the strong digits as the anbu summoned chakra into his fingers over the seal.

"I'm going to explain this so you know exactly what I'm doing, all right?" without waiting for a response he hovered over one of the symbols at the outer edge of the seal, one of the seven marks that resembled the tip of a scorpion's tail that was at the top left of the spiral seal. "You know that the spiral line is Shukaku's chakra, bound to the chakra arteries around your heart since it's one of your strongest clusters. These marks out here are placed exactly over the pores. I borrowed a trick from the Hyuuga to do this," he demonstrated by pressing one glowing finger down hard on one of the marks. Immediately the demon screamed, and while Gaara was uncomfortable as well he hid the fact and mentally sneered at the pest's suffering. Naruto was watching him speculatively. "I just closed up one of yours – and his – chakra pores. It breaks up his chakra flow, and since that's all they really exist as now, Kyuubi says it feel like having limbs ripped off. It also limits your connection to each other, so he shouldn't be so loud."

"A little dimmer, yes, but his screaming is more than making up for it."

"All right," Naruto repeated the process on the next mark, one that rested at the top peak of the seal, and when he was prompted to continue did it a third time on the one right of that. Only then did the howls fade to a distant buzz in the back of his mind that the redhead was more than capable of ignoring. He almost felt guilty for the pain the beast was enduring, but as far as he was concerned… he had endured years of hell due to Shukaku and karma was just starting to roll back on him.

"Thank you, Naruto."

"You're welcome, but keep in mind that three is the limit. Any more than that and you risk permanently damaging yourself, possibly even killing you and I'd rather you not take that chance. As it is, you won't be able to access more than a trickle of his power for a few days until the pores heal over, and your heart will be a little weaker to strain. Only do this when you absolutely have to, and only when you know you're safe for a few days for it to fade." The blue eyes were staring at him with worry, willing him to understand. He did, of course, he could already feel a kind of weight on his chest, a little difficulty with breathing as his heart worked harder to compensate for the chakra wounds. It was a fair trade, in his opinion.

"I promise, thank you. It helps to know that I can get rid of him, even if only for a little while," Gaara cupped his hands over the dark cheeks and brushed his thumbs over the whisker scars as he leaned forward for another deep kiss. It seemed to be their fate that Naruto was always saving him, always there when Gaara needed him, even when he didn't know exactly what kind of help he needed. When they broke away, the blonde was grinning broadly and the hands on his chest were moving across the skin with an entirely different agenda.

"What were you saying before about removing your clothes?" the blonde grinned and looked primly through his lashes up at the other male. The Kazekage quirked a brow but smirked as the hands slipped further into his jacket to encircle his back and he dipped forward to claim another kiss, pulling the lower lip between his teeth and nibbling gently at the tender flesh. Naruto responded eagerly, licking at the pale lip in return before coaxing the redhead to deepen the kiss further, slick muscles sparring lazily in a familiar routine. Tan fingers trailed firmly back around the trim waist, pressing into the soft skin as they danced along the edge of the black pants teasingly, pausing a moment to brush over the toned abs so that the muscles jumped at the touch. Breaking the kiss, moist lips replaced the strong digits to rain feathery kisses across the soft expanse of skin, enjoying the way Gaara's body quivered, and the delicate hands that had slipped past his cheeks flexed convulsively in the fine blonde spikes at the back of the anbu's neck. Naruto raised himself further on his knees as he worked higher towards the smaller teen's collar bone while slipping his hands down across the black-clad thighs to the knees that were on either side of his ribcage before moving further up again with more pressure and paused to thumb small circles over the sensitive inner thighs.

Growling heatedly, Gaara used his hold on the blonde, thumbs before the ears and fingers curled around the strong neck, to tug gently but insistently until Naruto scrambled to his feet, moving his hands from the redhead's thighs to his narrow shoulders for leverage as he quickly climbed onto the chair, straddling the Kazekage's hips. Said Kazekage happened to very much like this new development and slipped his arms around the blonde's waist tightly so that their chests were pressed together and tilted his head back to receive the kiss that was bestowed upon him, which became increasingly more frenzied every moment.

For the first time in a little over a year the redhead was able to enjoy the other jinchuuriki's ministrations without a series of snide comments echoing within his skull. It was a luxury he had nearly forgotten about.

Taking advantage of his reacquainted freedom, he turned his full and undivided attention to delightful figure sitting across his lap, rocking gently and causing the most delicious sensations in the pale youth. Combined with the familiar and skillful kiss – for Naruto knew exactly what Gaara liked and was exercising his experience ruthlessly – and the Kazekage was nearly reduced to a shivering, breathless bundle of pleasure. Having Naruto, a strong and virile young man that just exuded masculinity, sitting atop him in such a fashion that felt so instinctively submissive stoked Gaara's desire to a point that was nearly too much to resist. Nor did he feel the need to try.

Regardless, it wasn't fair that Gaara was bared from the waist up so he loosened his hold to chart a path along the white armor, nudging himself between their bodies to tackle the bindings. Naruto assisted by bowing his back a little whilst turning his attention to the graceful column of neck and nibbling on the chorded muscles there. The redhead paused, shivering with a low groan as pleasure rolled outward from that point through his whole body, and convulsively bucked a little under the blonde. Green eyes fluttered and focused dazedly on the armor before him, removing the article quickly and tossing it away. Without further ado he slipped his fingers up under the hem of the tight black shirt, pulling the material with him as he explored the hard planes of the anbu's torso.

Gaara wasn't entirely sure why, but he found the blonde's physique fascinating. The inherent differences in their musculature amused him and even occasionally filled him with a little envy. Naruto was what many would consider to be an epitome of shinobi fitness, every muscle honed to its peak from years of training but held in a package that was taut and condensed; a perfect balance of power and speed. While Naruto was only slightly smaller than average, he still outstripped Gaara's own form, which could only considered petite for all his nineteen years. His siblings were the same, but it was the price for specializing in ninjutsu with only moderate taijutsu training, as opposed to Naruto's predominately taijutsu mastery supplemented by an also high-level ability for ninjutsu skills.

He was moving to pull the tight black mock-turtleneck over the head of thick yellow spikes when something else invaded the Kazekage's senses, so sudden and unexpected that he froze, eyes unfocused and a stunned haze clouding his senses momentarily. It took him a moment to realize what the sensation was and when he refocused he saw a familiar face etched in worry. Blue eyes flickered across his face a moment while he got his bearings and recalled the words that had left him long before.

"No," Naruto said as he leaned back, denial and defiance in the single word. "Gaara, no."

The corner of his lips twitched as he replied unnecessarily, "Company."

The blonde made an angry sound somewhere between a hiss and a snarl and punctuated it with another firm "No!" which was then followed by him moving himself forward again to nibble at a pale lobe and expertly rocking his body until they both shivered, and whispered huskily "Keep 'em out."

Gaara made himself jerk away from the warm lips, placing his hands on the rolling hips and forcing Naruto gently but firmly away. "It's Baki," he informed simply.

"I don't care," the blonde growled back, retaliating by clenching his thighs around the Kazekage's hips to hold his place. "He can come back."

As far as Gaara was concerned, that wasn't even worthy of a response. So he leveled an even stare at the petulant blue eyes and held them, conveying his resolution silently for a long moment before quirking a brow "Like it or not, in about thirty-four seconds Baki _will_ be coming through that door," he informed the angry anbu evenly, "So you can either get up now or attempt to continue while I receive one of my chief councilors." Naruto held the glare a little longer before admitting defeat with snarl and climbing off the chair, as they both knew he would because no matter their feelings for each other they must maintain proper shinobi dignity.

The Kazekage quickly pulled his errant jacket up over his shoulders and fastened it, forgoing the rest of his normal attire for the sake of time and simply manipulated the sand strewn across the floor to drag it under his desk and out of sight, along with the anbu gloves and bracers that were abandoned. Naruto straightened his shirt and replaced his vest but didn't bother with the rest before hopping onto his usual seat on the desk, facing mostly away from the door. Gaara mentally snickered as the blonde schooled his expression back into calmness, despite his irritation that his pants did little to hide the effect of their prior activities.

He laced his fingers together on the desk just as the first knocks resounded on the door, calling permission to enter as he blatantly ignored Naruto's glare. The older man with the red marks on his cheeks sketched a salute and offered a hastily written report.

"Kazekage-sama, I thought you would like to know that one of the anbu set in the nearby oasis towns returned with this. It seems there is evidence that bandits that have been attacking the southern towns and caravans are working out of the southeastern oasis town of Bousarin. Since we've been frequently requested for guard missions against this group and few of the towns have put together a bounty on them should we catch them, I thought you would like to know of this development."

'Thank you, I will take care of it."

Baki looked as though he would speak more, but held his tongue and watched his leader with a small, troubled frown. Naruto also had turned sharply towards the redhead and was staring hard at him. Not many could read the emotions of Sabaku no Gaara when he didn't wish to be expressive, but the two subordinates were among the few that were graced with the skill. It was the years first as the boy's instructor and later advisor that gave Baki such ability, as well as for his two elder siblings; fearing for your life in case he had a mood swing tended to make them sensitive to his temperament. Long years in a close, albeit mostly long-distance, relationship left Naruto similarly attuned to the pale leader. As such, both recognized the sudden change in him at the news.

In mere seconds the pair read the subtle body language. The tightening of the laced fingers, the tensing of the narrow shoulders under the coat, the way the dark-rimmed eyes first widened then narrowed darkly, a handful of nuances that alerted them to his disturbance at the report. Moreover, Naruto had demonically enhanced senses aiding his evaluation, and while it wouldn't be obvious to most the anbu could feel the shift as physically as a touch. Gone was the overlying arousal that had filled the room moments before, overrun by the sudden tension like a burst of cold air. The blonde could taste the whirling emotions, strongest of which anger. That made sense.

The fear didn't.

But then Gaara was standing, ordering Baki out to form up a team to clear the nest of raiders out of Bousarin. The older man hesitated but finally nodded and left the office. The Kazekage immediately reached for his leather vest and began refastening it, but there was more to the action than simply redressing and Naruto voiced his concern when the sand distributed around the room began to shift and roll towards the changing figure.

"Gaara, what are you doing?" the blonde asked suspiciously. Gaara adjusted the straps that would hold his gourd in place, which was quickly beginning to take shape against his back, but did not answer. Growing alarmed, the anbu shoved off the desk and moved quickly to stand before the other teen. "Gaara, what do you think you're doing? You can't do this. Leave it to your shinobi."

Heated green eyes glared out from an otherwise expressionless façade, but still he did not answer except to step around the blonde and move towards the exit. Naruto cursed and snatched up his gloves, bracers and mask before hurrying after the retreating figure.

"Gaara, you can't do this!" he protested again as they walked briskly through the halls. He noted with increasing alarm that they were heading towards the open balcony.

"They are attacking people that look to my village for protection," Gaara explained dryly without looking at his companion. They climbed the final stairs and he led the way out onto the terrace.

"But the seal!" Naruto protested again as they leapt off the landing and began roof jumping across the village, heading not towards the main gate but instead the southern wall. He was wasting no time. "I just bruised some of the chakra around your seal less than an hour ago, you shouldn't go running off attacking gangs of thieves yet!"

Still the leader did not answer, leading the way towards the looming stone wall quickly. Naruto had no trouble keeping up, as he had much more speed than other jinchuuriki, so a series of protests and curses followed him as he ran. When they reached the high stone outcropping he gestured broadly with his arm to call up a cloud of sand to carry him, and perforce his bodyguard, up over the wall and down again. As they landed on the hot dunes outside Naruto took the opportunity to step in front of the redhead, catching the pale face in his hands and forcing the angry teen to heed him.

"Don't do this," he said again, more of a plea than a demand.

"They are attacking my people," Gaara hissed, cool eyes nearly glowing as he reached up and pulled the hands away from him forcefully. "I sent a team to that town, Naruto. A genin team." He didn't need to say more, he saw it in the stricken look across the tan face that his bodyguard understood. There was more danger there than the mission warranted and he was not going to lose a team to the band of criminals. It was more than likely that the team _would_ be attacked if they were seen because the bandits had taken an extreme dislike to the village shinobi that were constantly thwarting them. Without another word he set off again, and this time Naruto offered no more objections.

Bousarin was more than a half day away at a normal walk; at shinobi speeds it would take little less than two hours to cover the same distance. The heat was harsh, being midday, and the run strenuous as the sands shifted below their feet. Gaara grimly refrained from molding the sand as they moved to make their trek easier. The tight and aching sensation around his heart warned him to conserve strength for later, for he was now limited in that regard. The silence in his mind was mocking.

No. He had lived three years without the demon. He did not need that power.

An hour and twenty minutes out and the pair caught the scent of blood on the wind. Ten minutes later found them cresting a dune to the scene of a battle. Two sets of eyes flickered quickly, taking in the scene in a mere instant.

Two dozen bandits in total ranged in the area just ahead. The caravan the team had been sent to escort was broken and strewn messily across the sands, picked over and raided by the attackers, the owners lying bloody and still by the remains of their cargo. Four of the bandits were also wounded or dead, but most were ranged in a rough circle around the area. In the center stood the team of four, an adult jounin and three children, back to back defensively as they waited for an attack. The ring of spectators watched, alternately attacking and withdrawing quickly. It was clear they were making sport of their prey.

Detachedly enraged, Gaara raised an arm to pull up a wall of sand before the next attacker could strike, turning it then to a whip that struck him away into his fellows. Almost as one, every head turned in their direction.

"Protect them," the redhead ordered tersely.

And then hell broke loose on the hot sands as the two newcomers joined the fray. Gaara turned his attention solely on the bandits, trusting Naruto to do as he asked and protect the team. At first only a few broke away from the circle to attack, thinking it just more entertainment, but as the first wave was crushed by a round of _sabaku sousou_ and yet more were ripped apart by sword and _rasengan_ as the blonde tore through the ranks the rest realized that perhaps the time for play was over. Grimly, Gaara went on an all out attack and succeeded in keeping the main force on himself.

Most attacked with weapons, sword and knives and the like, and two even had bows whose arrows landed ineffectually against the wall of his automatic defense, but it was the ones that employed jutsu in their attacks that disturbed the Kazekage. The marauders had some missing-nin with them. Soon to be dead nin.

Only two dozen, and already the number was greatly diminished by the initial attack; it would not take long to destroy them. But then a call sounded, a high shrill into the air and a flare was sent into the sky. A signal.

So be it, Gaara would kill them all that came against him and already there were teams sent to purge their headquarters. As a leader, he would not allow them to harm more of his people. He lost himself willingly in the battle. There would be no mercy, no restraint. There was no demon howling in bloodlust, only his own angry determination. Blows landed on his defense, a few even managing to sneak past and land on his armor, for with the demon's chakra weakened so was his shield's reaction time slower. But these were just men, a few failed shinobi in the mix. They were no match for Sabaku no Gaara, not in the desert where the world was his weapon and armor in one.

A curved, scimitar-like blade swung at him and the pale shinobi caught it in his hand, the condensed strength of his armor protecting his hand from damage while lending power as he twisted and snapped the steel blade in twain. The man's incredulous look was burned forever on his features as he died in the next instant from a tendril of sand striking through his chest. Kunai, shuriken and arrows embedded themselves in the sand at his back, held in useless suspension as Gaara turned and raised an arm, gesturing broadly and a wave of sand followed the movement and rolled over the attackers who thought to keep their distance. Pale digits curled in on themselves and once more fountains of blood spilled over the sand before even a scream could sound.

As the ranks lessened, more came to take their place, heeding the earlier call from the dead comrade. Gaara placed himself to meet them, moving more towards the southeast, so that the reinforcements met him first. A twinge of pain stabbed at his heart as he crushed the first two, and he was becoming short of breath more quickly than he was used to, but he had enough and more than enough to take care of the new onslaught. He turned his mind towards that goal, focusing solely on that. A few slipped past him, but he paid them no mind. Naruto was protecting the team, he could more than take care of any stragglers Gaara let slip.

The blonde anbu with the fox mask crouched defensively in the soft sand among the four other shinobi. Five _kage bunshin_ ringed the group and fended off the attackers that thought to kill the seemingly-weaker foes. The vulpine smile of the mask seemed to take on a decidedly wolfish grin in the carnage. Lifeless bodies lay strewn across the desert floor, blood oozing out onto the sands and staining it a sickly red. The stench was overwhelming and the children were surreptitiously covering their noses against it, but for Naruto's senses it was far worse. He hated it as much as the demon inside him loved it, but between the two extremes he could work in a kind of balance that just accepted the scent for what it was. Another raider attacked and joined his fellows on the sand, paying homage to the desert with their lives. A few had managed to disperse some clones, but as quickly as they fell they were replaced by more. Naruto could make hundreds of clones at a time, keeping a steady stream of only a handful barely tapped his reserves. Inside the ring of blood and bodies, both real and shadow, the five figures sat and watched.

Naruto wanted to join the fight, desperately wanted to spring out and aid his friend, but when they had come to the aid of the genin team he had understood the quiet order. While he did not recognize the children, he had seen their instructor on occasion as the man had come to receive and report missions. In Suna, only the instructor came for missions and then passed the statement onto his students. But the blonde recognized the man, recalling that his team was the one which held the little baker girl that Gaara had grown fond of. It did not take great logic to realize that the small blonde girl was the same Tsubaki that had sent the Kazekage bakery treats. And suddenly the other teen's determination to come himself was much clearer, and Naruto nearly smiled to himself amidst the battle.

Now he sat crouched with the girl child in his lap and her two boy teammates held by Ikari. The man had a gash across his cheek that was bleeding slowly down his face but was mostly unharmed. Both boys had a myriad of cuts and bruises, one with a stab wound in his leg that had been hastily bandaged. Tsubaki was just as torn up, right hand cradling her limp left arm where the humerus had been snapped in an early strike. The two more wounded children were nearly in shock from the pain, but were holding up well as good shinobi.

"Why don't you help him?" Tsubaki demanded suddenly and Naruto looked down into a face that was insipid with pain but drawn with angry determination. She tried to lever herself up to glare more fully, but he kept her carefully restrained for her own safety, unwilling to let her wounds get worse from jostling.

"Tsubaki!" Ikari called out scoldingly, but Naruto held up a hand and continued to stare at the girl.

"I was ordered to protect you," he informed her calmly.

"Protect _him_!" she demanded again. The anbu frowned behind his mask, because he wanted nothing more than to rush to Gaara's side but knew that the action would be unwelcome were he to do so. Another attacker landed a lucky hit on his clone and dispersed it and he absently created another to deal with the man as he regarded the girl. "They're all going after Gaara-sama, you have to go help him!"

"Listen to me Tsubaki, he's fighting to protect you and he's entrusted your safety to me while he does that. I _must_ protect you."

"But Gaara-sama is–!"

"–a powerful shinobi and the Kazekage of your Village." Naruto interrupted smoothly. "He will not be harmed. Trust him." Despite his words, the anbu was also worried. It wasn't that he believed Gaara couldn't handle a band of outlaws without his demon's help, but what he had done to the seal weakened the redhead's heart for a time and he feared that he might overexert himself in the battle. But he trusted Gaara and had faith in him to take care of himself. The smaller blonde was watching the carnage in the distance worriedly, and the elder squeezed her unwounded shoulder reassuringly, leaning down closer so that he might whisper secretively. "I will protect you because he wishes it, Tsubaki. You have become a precious friend to him, and for his sake I will not allow you to be harmed. He will be fine."

True to form, in a mere twelve minutes since their arrival the battle was ended, a mass of bodies strewn across the sands. A credit to their training, none of the genin became ill at either the sight or smell of the carnage. Gaara strode back towards the group slowly, face expressionless in the bright light. There was not a spec of blood on him, despite the battle, and the blonde knew that the sand armor had greedily drunk up every drop that had landed on the slim form, to be forever with the grains like a trophy of victory. Despite his outward composure, Naruto could see that the Kazekage was tired; not completely drained and exhausted, but more than a little winded from the exertion.

Tsubaki and Ikari started speaking at his arrival, the elder about the attack and the younger inquiring about Gaara's safety. He answered succinctly and they soon fell silent as he offered no more, instead looking around with a small frown, debating the next course of action. There were two possibilities open to him – to return to the village or to continue on and take refuge in Bousarin. The oasis town was much closer, and two of the children were in need of medical attention, but the at the same time the town was soon to be besieged by more teams from Sunagakure, routing the remains of the bandits that weren't currently baking in the sun a few meters away. It was no place for wounded children, strong ninja or no. That left only the return to the village, so without a word Gaara affected the sand below them to lift the startled group into the air. With a small but steady flow of chakra, the Kazekage was perfectly capable of keeping the cloud of sand carrying them for the few hours it would take to return, even with his current limitations. The two boys whispered amongst themselves and asked hushed questions of their teacher, all unaware that the two jinchuuriki had acute hearing and whispers were often as loud as regular speech to them.

Once the surprise wore off, Tsubaki quietly and hesitantly asked the anbu holding her to help her over towards Gaara, who had joined the group in sitting as the sand cloud for the long trip back. Lost in his thoughts, Gaara blinked slowly when the small figure sat back on her heels in front him. There was a hesitant kind of determination in her gaze as she stared at him, and the redhead stared back in mute confusion. Then she sighed, released her hold on her broken arm and leaned forward to gingerly wrap the undamaged arm her leader's shoulder in an awkward hug, face pressed against the black-clad shoulder as she murmured softly.

"Thank you for coming to save me, Gaara-sama."

Bewildered, the redhead turned to Naruto for help, but the blue eyes smiled behind the mask. Tentatively, for he was very unused to any form of physical affection from anyone beside Naruto and Temari and on rare occasions Kankurou, he curled an arm carefully around the small back, wary of her injuries as he returned the embrace. Another sigh and Tsubaki collapsed, falling into Gaara's lap much the same way she had been in Naruto's before. The anbu nearly laughed at the expression the Kazekage then sported, a stunned disbelief that bordered on panic. What was he to do with a wounded girl child passed out on top of him? The blonde scooted a little closer and sat beside the other teen, comforting in his nearness since he could do no more with such an audience.

It took more hours to return than it had taken to go out and by the time they crested the village wall the sun was setting behind the western dunes. He did not disperse the sand cloud until they reached the hospital and left the team in the care of the medics there. Mizore was one of those to take charge of the wounded children and Gaara carefully ignored the withering glare she sent at him. He just turned on his heel and began walking back through the dimming streets towards the Kazekage administration building. Once inside he paused and turned toward his companion in the empty hallway. His expression was open with a sort of vulnerability that was rarely seen on the young Kazekage's face. Naruto removed his mask and solemnly waited for the other male to say whatever he needed to.

"I'm tired," Gaara murmured finally. The expressiveness of his warm green eyes spoke volumes, and the anbu knew that he was not just speaking of physical exertion. Ruthless though he could still be, Gaara did not like to kill, not anymore. His readiness to slaughter as a child made changed to aversion of murder as an adult. He had done what was necessary, but that didn't mean he still enjoyed it or was immune to the affects such deaths would have on a person. Naruto cupped his hand around a pale cheek and the redhead turned into the caress, kissing the palm.

"Sleep, Gaara," the blonde commanded gently, but the face under his touch shook slowly.

"My duties… the reports…"

"They can wait," he crooned, hushing smaller teen. "Your people are competent and not likely to return until tomorrow. If they need you they'll find you. For now you should sleep." Another weak protest was hushed by the foreigner and he pressed a lingering kiss to the 'ai' scar soothingly. The tension drained out of the redhead and he sagged bonelessly against Naruto, who wrapped a supporting arm around the narrow waist and led the way to the Kazekage's quarters in the building. Mentally and emotionally fatigued, heart aching physically as well as metaphorically, Gaara was content to soak up the comfort of the other's embrace as they walked, allowing himself to be put to bed and clinging to the blonde so that they lay together. In this way he fell asleep, trying to forget the faces frozen in terror that he had left for the carrion eaters to the south.

* * *

notes: I personally hate coffee, and have indeed actually had highly caffeinated teas. Besides, think about how far they are from anyplace coffee beans would grow, the import price must be high o.o So yes, I decided to go against the fanfic grain and have Gaara NOT drink coffee ::gasp!::

I made up the spiel about the seal and tried to make it at least somewhat viable given what I remembered of the series. If it's not... well.. try to suspend logic a little ang go with it, kei?


	5. Chapter 5 : Aside

konpeitou: This is kind of an Aside story written following Naruto instead of Gaara. Not really a necessary read, just adds a little more information and dynamics, I think.

* * *

Any good working class server knew that if a customer took the time to learn and remember your name is was generally wise to remember theirs in return because they were more than likely to be returning soon. Thus it wasn't surprising that when Naruto entered Misosazai, the delightful restaurant that Gaara had brought him to that was named after a cute little desert bird, the entire working staff recognized him on sight and greeted him with warm smiles by name. He knew of course that many of them recognized him more for his habitual spending and gratuity in the place, but his outgoing personality served to win over most so that they genuinely liked him for more than his frog purse.

Without missing a beat Naruto walked up to where Junko was currently working at the register. She was a pretty little thing, a few years younger than the blonde, which reminded him occasionally of Sakura with her gentle features and short pinkish hair. She smiled warmly and dutifully asked for his order, hardly batting an eye when he stated that it would be to go, an occurrence unheard of from the foreigner for he had always dined in. He chatted idly with her and Michi while the order was prepared, just general small talk and some general gossip from the girls which Naruto generally just smiled and nodded to, occasionally throwing in some of his own anecdotes from Konoha. When the order was finished and packed up into travel bowls, it was only the other patrons that bothered to stare as he walked out balancing three containers in each hand. The servers were far too used to his appetite to be surprised.

The blonde anbu accumulated more looks as he walked casually through the dusty streets, humming a low tune softly to himself. His next destination was exactly six blocks away from the restaurant: exit, turn left and continue for two blocks, turn right and continue for three blocks, left again for the last block and presto. Sterile air and whitewashed walls greeted him coolly as he entered, pausing for a moment to ask the desk attendant for his final destination with as much charm as he could muster. The middle-aged woman, Sadako he learned her name was, was not particularly impressed by his attempt and eyed the stack of bowls like they contained vipers.

She told him there was no food allowed.

He insisted that it was necessary.

In the end, Naruto won and carried his prizes up three floors and down many corridors to a small nondescript room with the windows facing the northeast. The door was open and his hands were occupied so Naruto figured he could be excused for not knocking before entering. Like most hospital rooms, there was not much to take note of beside the bed, a couple side tables with a spattering of flowers and notes and open windows on one wall opposite the door. The hospital wasn't currently enduring an overabundance of injuries so the room was a solitary one with just one small occupant.

"Excuse me?" the small girl asked politely from where she sat on the single bed, blinking in confusion as he entered. Naruto grinned and took that as an invitation to enter completely, which just seemed to confuse the girl more.

"Hey there," he began genially, making a little space on one of the tables to place his load, carefully setting the two piles beside each other, "If hospital food here is anything like it is in my country, I thought you could use a decent meal." So saying, he began twisting the bowls around and reading off the scribbles that marked each one.

"Thank you…" she answered hesitantly, still staring. "Excuse me, but do I know you anbu-san?"

"Not exactly," Naruto answered with a grin, popping the lid off one bowl and offering it to her – it was miso, he figured everyone liked miso – followed by chopsticks with a flourish. "You're Tsubaki and I'm Naruto and I wanted to meet you. Do you like miso ramen?"

In a bit of a daze, the smaller blonde just nodded and slowly took the bowl with her right hand, since the left arm was bound up in a cast from the hand to shoulder, settling it in her lap to be ignored as she continued to study her visitor. She was sitting cross-legged so Naruto, while pretending to be oblivious to her scrutiny, claimed a bowl and settled himself on the empty end of the bed.

"Eat up," he prompted the girl with a small twirl of his chopstick before suiting actions to words and digging into his own bowl, pulling up a large mess of noodles from his miso pork ramen and slurping them up with delight. Tsubaki hesitantly followed suit, carefully holding the bowl with the fingers of her casted hand and using the chopsticks with her right, though mostly because she looked too baffled to do anything else.

"Er, Naruto-san…" the small girl began hesitantly after a few minutes of silence broken only by their slurping, setting her chopsticks down in the half-empty bowl of ramen. There was a livid bruise across her right cheek where she looked to have been struck and the muscles were stiff against the small frown tugging at her lips. "You're the anbu that was with Gaara-sama yesterday, aren't you? The one in the fox mask that protected us…"

"Bingo."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why…" she paused, realizing that she wasn't quite sure what she was really asking. A dozen different questions presented themselves, but with a sigh she settled on a simple "Why me?"

Naruto laughed. "That's not a whole lot more specific, kid," he grinned cheekily at her. "Why you, what? Why did we protect you or why am I here to see you now?"

"Both."

"Ah, a curious one, aren't you? I like that." Naruto wolfed down the last few noodles and set the bowl aside, mightily resisting taking another, before getting a little more comfortable at the end of the hospital bed. "Very good questions, and both are related as a matter of fact. As to the first, I'm… well, I'm kind of the Kazekage's personal bodyguard so where he goes I follow."

"Then why?" Tsubaki broke in again, seizing on the opening to demand a better answer to a question that had plagued her since the incident. "Why didn't you protect Gaara-sama?"

"I told you," he replied with a long-suffering sigh, because he didn't much like the accusation in both her looks at voice directed at him. "I was ordered to protect _you_."

"But WHY?" she demanded again.

"I was getting to that. Eat your ramen before it gets cold or I won't tell you, 'kay?" with a start, she guilty went back to the rest of her meal, surreptitiously eying the stack of four other bowls on the side table.

"I can't eat that much, Naruto-san…" she murmured tentatively.

"I can," he answered slyly, giving into the temptation of the wafting aroma and grabbed another bowl to dig into. "Anyway, I'm his bodyguard." Naruto repeated, getting back to the topic. "But – and while this isn't really a secret, not many know so I'd appreciate it if you didn't gossip – I'm also his friend. We met when we were just around your age, in fact. As such, I feel it is my duty to protect more than just his body." Tsubaki stared at her visitor with uncomprehending skepticism and he motioned for her to resume eating, continuing the narrative only when she obeyed. "And that is what ties into the second question.

"The Kazekage cares about you," he informed her blithely, carefully gauging her reaction through his lashes as he took in a mouthful of ramen. It was a risk, telling her such things blatantly, for she could grow to take advantage of that affection; the Kage was a powerful friend to have, more so if that power cared personally for you. He didn't want Gaara to face something like that, not with his painful past. But her honest surprise and confusion was a pleasant enough reaction for the anbu and he carried on. "He realized he had pretty much sent your team into the lion's den, so to speak, and wanted to protect you. He's getting a hard time from most of his council right now for that little stunt, so much so that I was dismissed from him for the day while they rant about him running haring off into the desert."

"Gaara-sama is in trouble over me?" the small genin asked, pleasing the elder blonde with the horror and shame that chased across her features, and he smiled reassuringly.

"He is the Kazekage and his word is practically law. They can't do much more than complain and they know it, which is why they do it so loudly and insistently. Gaara's fine. But anyway, he is my friend and even if wasn't my job I would have followed him. I would do the same for any friend of mine so I couldn't really hold it against him."

"You still should have protected him," she grumbled again, though this time it sounded a little more petulant than accusative. It was progress.

"I did," he told her simply, almost laughing at her dumbstruck expression at the statement but refrained because he knew that it wouldn't be kind to her if he did. Still, the wide-eyed gaping expression was classically comical. Naruto hurried on before her surprise could shift to anger and get accusatory again. "I was protecting his mind."

Tsubaki continued to a stare, ignoring the wordless prompt to eat and the anbu kept a forced smile on his face until she finally admitted that she didn't understand. Then he sighed, let the expression drop into a more somber one to fit his sudden mood, and left his gaze fixed on the empty bowl of ramen in his lap.

"It's simple really," he murmured quietly, "Gaara was there to protect you, the purpose was to keep you – and your teammates, of course – safe. I could have protected him, against his orders, but that wasn't what he needed. He needed me to stay with you, because then he could fight without worrying about you. Do you understand?" Naruto looked up but the smaller blonde shook her head mutely and he sighed again. "He could concentrate on the attackers because he trusted me to watch over you. If I had protected him instead, his attention would've been divided between himself and watching out for your team. He'd have kept worrying about you every second and all it would take was a stray kunai to hurt you more, maybe even kill one of you genin. For his sake, for his security, I protected you so that he wouldn't have to worry. It was more important to protect you, to give him that comfort, than it was to simply protect his body.

"Have some faith your Kazekage, Tsubaki, he could've taken down a mob twice that size when he was still a child. A bodyguard wasn't what he needed."

"Then what did he need, Naruto-san?"

"A friend."

He smiled at her, and she smiled tentatively back even though she still looked very confused by it all. The anbu supposed that was natural, she was still only a kid and it was a lot to think about. Naruto even wished he hadn't had to say it all but…

… well, it seemed important that she understand.

Another two bowls disappeared off the side table as Naruto grabbed them, pushing one towards the small girl and claiming the other for himself. They ate for a few minutes while she reflected on the conversation, a rather adorable frown of concentration on her features that seemed a little too serious for her.

Inside, Naruto was a little tense as he wondered what, exactly, she was thinking. It was entirely possible that she would regret her association with the redheaded leader, not liking the degree of attachment that he had implied. After all, she could have just been being nice and meant nothing more. If that were the case, it would be a pity and Naruto would certainly feel guilty for being the cause of Gaara losing yet another person he was coming to consider a friend, but he consoled himself that if that happened, it would be better to happen now than later.

That's why he was here today, on his day off, rather than doing any number of other things that he had the option of. He knew of this girl, had seen and even shared in some of the treats she had sent, and most of all he knew Gaara well enough to know that he was secretly a little enamored of the child. The Kazekage was starved for attention, though he did well to hide the fact. He pretended that the love of his siblings and a couple of friends, Naruto being paramount on that rather short list, was enough to satisfy him. But the blonde foreigner knew better – better than anyone, possibly including even Gaara himself – that the Kazekage still desperately craved compassion and acceptance. For people like them, jinchuuriki who knew little but scorn for most of their lives, every friend was precious.

Naruto just hoped that the girl would not betray the tenuous hope that Gaara was holding. He would get over it, of course, they had learned a long time ago to let go of such things, but even so the anbu didn't wish it to happen. More than anything he wanted his friend to be happy, to have the comfort that could only be found in knowing that you had friends that cared about you. It was so very rare that Gaara would take the risk of caring about someone, his trust was so brittle that it would make your heart ache if you were ever privileged enough to see him so open, but it was rarer still when someone would bother to care back. The anbu silently prayed to the spirits of fire, though he often believed that few, if any, bothered to watch over him, that this would not all end badly.

"I still don't understand," Tsubaki admitted with a frustrated sigh some time later. "I don't get what you're trying to tell me. _Why_ did you tell me this?"

"First, let me ask you: what do you think about Gaara?" he asked instead, ignoring her question for the moment. He wanted to be annoyed, but he knew it was pointless. It was natural for kids her age to still be a little dense. Spirits knew he had been much worse, but still he wished he didn't have to say quite so much.

"He's the Kazekage-sama!" Tsubaki answered immediately and emphatically, but Naruto just quirked a brow at her.

"So?"

"So?" she echoed, as though she were utterly confused by the response and gave him a look he recognized; the look that said you had just asked a stupid question that _everyone_ should already know the answer to. It was quite endearing, actually, given the circumstances. "So he's wonderful! He's strong and wise and kind! Gaara-sama is always protecting us, he's a great Kazekage!"

Naruto kept his expression carefully blank as he listened to the girl, but inside was a growing sense of horror. Dear spirits, was the kid actually _infatuated_ with Gaara? Bright blue eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the genin while she continued to wax not-so-elegant on the leader's virtues. Granted, he wanted her to like Gaara but he didn't really want her to like him quite like that. Faint stirrings of jealousy were already pulling at his insides and he could admit, if only to himself, that the possibility worried him. Naruto cared deeply for the caustic redhead, more than he probably should given their responsibilities, and it was a constant fear whenever they were apart that Gaara would get over him and move on – that the next time they met their strange relationship would be over.

Mentally, he knew that Gaara felt the same – the same feelings and fears – but still it was hard to convince himself that the other teen would still want him when they spent lonely months apart from each other because of their duties to two different Villages. Sometimes it was easier to keep faith with the small consolation that, as far as he knew, there was no other competition to draw Gaara's attention while they were apart. But if this girl, half-dozen or so years younger though she was, were to fall for the same greatness that Naruto saw beneath the pale aloof façade, then he would no longer have even that small comfort.

Worse, what if Gaara would return it? He was already beginning to care for her, even if it was still mostly in appreciation for her kindness and lack of fear. She was young, yes, but in only a couple years the difference wouldn't be so great anymore. How easy would it be for the redhead to fall for her in return if she continued to care for him? Naruto cared about Gaara and trusted him, really he did, but still… he wasn't really available much and he couldn't help the constant fear that one day the young leader would turn to someone a little more accessible. The terms of their relationship if – no, when! – he became the Hokage didn't bear thinking about.

The blonde anbu was suddenly scared, scared of a little girl sitting across from him, and almost hated himself for it. It felt like such a stupid thing to worry about, but like a fool he couldn't help it; he didn't want to lose Gaara and right now the thought frightened him more than he thought it would. But no, it didn't matter, not yet. He was getting ahead of himself, so Naruto forced his attention back to his analysis.

The speed of thought was great and during his inner turmoil she hadn't said more than another sentence or two, and in the space of the next he felt safe to dismiss all those previous fears. He could spot infatuation when he saw it, what with growing up surrounded by girls throwing themselves at his ex-teammate convinced that they were all hopelessly in love with him. He'd hated it most of his life and could spot such things with ease, but Tsubaki exhibited none of the things he associated with the obsessed fangirls of his childhood. Instead, her look and manner was familiar in a different sort of way.

It was respect.

It was how he felt about Iruka-sensei, even grudgingly about others like Kakashi-sensei and old man Sandaime… Admittedly he hadn't much liked the past Hokage, but the old lech had been kind to him in his own way and he had honestly grieved his death. Tsunade no baa-chan he also respected, despite still being disgruntled that a lazy wench like her was chosen as Hokage over him, but even so he didn't feel quite as emphatic as the little blonde Sand genin sitting across from him, and that made him glad. Gaara deserved it. The relief he felt at the realization was enough to make him laugh, which fortunately happened just as Tsubaki accidentally splashed some of her ramen broth over the white hospital blankets, interrupting whatever it was she had been saying – Naruto had already stopped paying attention by then – and he was able to pass it off as laughing at the spill instead. She seemed upset for a moment then joined him in laughing.

"Naruto-san!" a voice suddenly yelled, and the blonde pair turned to see Mizore staring aghast at them in the doorway where she had been alerted by their mirth. "What are you doing here? _Why is there ramen?!_"

The seated pair shared a look and burst out laughing once more. The young Rain medic scowled as she stormed closer to the occupied bed, pulling both bowls out of their hands and placing them on the table with the rest, eyeing the remaining untouched bowl with distaste.

"Aw come on, Mizore-chan!" Naruto whined at the loss of his beloved food, "You can't honestly expect her to get better on hospital food, can you? It's just ramen!"

"It's against regulations and you know it," she sniped back curtly, collecting the bowls and crossing the room to throw them away. Naruto was surprised to notice that when her back was turned Tsubaki was glaring daggers at her doctor, the effect somewhat diminished by the fact that she stuck her tongue out petulantly to emphasize her dislike. More surprising still, the glare dimmed but didn't fully dissipate even when Mizore turned around and came back towards the bed. She checked on the younger girl's injuries, marking on the clipboard she had brought in with her, shuffling around the room to get fresh bandages and some salve for the bruises. The medic was efficient but quiet, doing her duty with an air of displeasure that was eclipsed only by her patient's ire.

"Geez," Naruto muttered lowly as he watched the two girls, "What's with you two? Way to suck the fun out of life."

Both girls looked abruptly at him when he spoke, then at each other, then away again.

"I don't _like_ her!" Tsubaki snapped, a slight whine to the statement that usually went hand-in-hand with stamping of a foot, moving to cross her arms over her chest before realizing that one arm was rather immovable, and just huffed. A few feet away, Mizore tensed but did not comment. Naruto was increasingly more confused.

"Uhm… why?" he asked hesitantly.

"She doesn't like Gaara-sama," Tsubaki answered, glaring again at the medic. "She says bad things about him, so I don't like her."

"Bad things?" he echoed. He knew Mizore, of course, she attended the unofficial "foreigners meetings" often enough as one of the ones permanently stationed in the village for the duration of the exchange. She was curt and usually reserved, but speaking out against the Kage, something that almost but not quite edged on treason, was something he hadn't really expected.

"She says he's a murderer," the genin supplied, still sulking. It was hard to take the anger too seriously though when she pouted like someone just told her that she was grounded for a week.

Well, technically she was… being stuck in the hospital and all, but that was beside the point.

Naruto frowned and faced the Ame-nin again. "We're shinobi," he pointed out slowly, "We all kill, sooner or later."

"Not me," Mizore denied tightly.

"Regardless, you're a shinobi too. Just because you decided to go against the grain, don't hold it against the rest of us. It's what we're all trained to do, even you." At this, Tsubaki looked a little proud of the argument, which actually made Naruto a little sad because he doubted she had endured the pain of making her first kill. Killing wasn't something to be proud of, nor was it something to really be ashamed of – they were what they were and at the heart of all shinobi training was death.

"Yes," the medic agreed coldly, "shinobi are killers. But murderers and killers are different, and it's murderers like the Kazekage that I hate." She brusquely finished her notes on the clipboard and headed towards the door, pausing just before the threshold. "Visiting hours are over soon, Naruto-san."

The blonde anbu stuck his tongue out at her as she left, making Tsubaki giggle. Good, she needed to cheer up and not be so angry. Mizore had a lot to learn about bedside manners, that was for sure. She was very contradictory for a ninja and he wondered how long that resolve would last when it came right down to it. It was one thing to swear off killing but keeping such a vow with the lives they lead was a whole other matter.

"Ahh well," Naruto sighed with an exaggerated shrug, "I guess that's my cue to leave. It was nice meeting you Tsubaki. Take care of yourself." So saying, he stood and moved to leave, mournfully eyeing the trashcan with half eaten – and even one untouched! – bowls of ramen. Before he could fully leave the younger girl called out to him and he turned back, making small noise of attention.

"Two questions…" she began haltingly, taking a deep breath as though to gather courage. "Did I pass?"

"Pass?"

"Your test."

"What test?" My, but he was doing a lot of repeating today. He was starting to sound like a parrot – not that he really knew what a parrot was like, mind you, but he'd heard about them.

"That's why you came here, right? To test me? So, did I pass?"

All right, so maybe the girl wasn't _quite_ as slow as she'd seemed before. He grinned.

"Yeah, I guess you did. For now, at least. What was the second question?"

Tsubaki returned the grin. "Which cookies did Gaara-sama like best?" Naruto couldn't help it, he laughed and leaned against the door for extra support. "I'm serious!" the wounded girl chided him with mock-severity, but she was smiling too. He calmed himself with an utterly insincere apology and confided in the little baker the confections that the Kazekage had been partial to, adding in that he wasn't big on sweets. That didn't, of course, mean that the sweets were unwelcome, he told her… oh no, those orange creams were _particularly_ delicious…


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING: Enter the M-rated smut in this chapter. If you shouldn't be reading this, then please don't. Otherwise, enjoy. **

"What?"

"Nothing."

The Kazekage glared to show that he didn't believe the denial for a moment, but when he went ignored he reluctantly turned his attention back to work. After his impromptu trip outside the Village his councilors had decided to punish him in the only real way they could – by forcing more work on him. Minor things that were normally delegated suddenly needed his attention, some now demanded his response immediately and not allowed a moment to waste no matter the insignificance, every little thing was suddenly crucial and there was always someone willing to launch into another scathing rant if he tried to shirk the busy work. He knew it wasn't necessary, they knew he knew and thus it was very obvious to all concerned that even the Kazekage himself was being punished.

It was galling that he had to submit himself to the menial reprimands but after four years leading Sunagakure Gaara knew the futility of balking; they would just keep it up until they were satisfied. Still, he hated it and was not in anything remotely like a happy mood as he stamped and signed an endless stream of papers viciously, only slightly mollified by the violence to the harmless sheets. Four days of overworking made him very irritable.

"_WHAT?!_" he demanded loudly again, breaking the silence of the room and glaring darkly at his companion.

"Noth–"

"Say that one more time and I'll send you back to Konoha in a jar," he interrupted with an angry snarl. He'd had enough. For nearly half an hour Naruto had been staring at him while they worked, but when confronted refused to explain himself. Gaara hated being stared at and given his current mood he really wasn't up to being charitable and letting it all slide.

Naruto jerked back in surprise, blinking but looking completely nonplussed in the face of the redhead's formidable temper. He didn't speak, not even to deny himself again, but instead cocked his head a little to the side and frowned in thought. Suddenly Gaara wanted to make good on his threat even if the blonde didn't provoke him. He was frustrated, agitated, and angry… and old habits had him wanting to rip something to pieces for the sheer pleasure of destroying something in a fit of rage. Only his affection for the blonde foreigner and long years of practice at burying his homicidal urges kept from acting on that impulse, which was nearly done in by the next words.

"You know, Gaara… you work too much."

Oh yes, maybe it was worth tearing him to pieces. Shukaku concurred.

But no, that wouldn't be good and he knew it. The Hokage would be angry to lose her favored successor. And besides that, who else would he have to satisfy his _other_ urges if he killed the blonde? It was more worthwhile to keep him alive, the redhead told himself, most of the time at least. With effort he clenched his hands until the joints ached and took short, shallow breaths, though the glare he leveled at Naruto did not abate.

"Oh really," he replied scathingly, "I hadn't noticed. Thank you for stating the obvious." But instead of being sufficiently rebuked, the anbu just set his own folder down with an exaggerated sigh and slid off the desk.

"I'm serious," the blonde answered back as he stood looking down at the angry teen with his arms crossed firmly across his chest, ignoring the glare. Well, to be honest Naruto had had a long time to get used to ignoring dirty looks. It would be more correct to say that he pretended not to see the look or any effect it had on him. "You're getting overworked and if you don't take a break you're going to snap. More," he amended after a second, because it was obvious that Gaara was already snapping. "You need to get out, get some sun… I can't even imagine how you manage to stay pale when you live in the desert like this."

"Sand armor," was the brusque answer. "The sun doesn't get through."

Oddly enough, that simple reply made Naruto brighten considerably and he grinned broadly with a new idea dancing behind his eyes. The sudden shift made the Kazekage wary and the additional emotion tipped the scale and served to make him angry all over again.

"No."

"Wow, you didn't even let me begin, let alone finish."

"No."

"But Gaara,"

"_No_."

Angrily he turned back to his work, hoping and dreading that Naruto would push the subject. He wanted to be left alone, really he did, without being poked and prodded at until he lashed out at the blonde that didn't really deserve it, and yet he hoped that the other young man would try and somehow sooth away the mounting frustration. The two opposing wants only served to keep him angry and irritated, so he couldn't really decide exactly how he felt about the matter when Naruto gently cupped his hands around Gaara's cheeks and pulled him into a languid kiss.

Damn him, Naruto knew that he had a weakness for kisses.

He tried to resist the obvious attempt to pacify him, but in under a minute the redhead was succumbing to the sensual touch and melting into his chair with an involuntary moan of appreciation. The anbu's tongue coaxed his into a willing dance, twisting over and around each other slowly, sighing breathily as one mapped the hard planes of the alveolar ridges, the other tracing along the blunted enamel spires until no area was left untasted between the pair. A tentative game of tag ensued, licking playfully before retreating back into home territory, claiming a lip and suckling it gently as much for the pleasure as to block pursuit, but always one would release his captive and welcome the pursuing muscle with a warm touch of surrender before it would begin again. It was nice, Gaara reflected, that they hadn't yet eaten lunch, for he was able to enjoy the pure and unadulterated flavor of the blonde, a taste that he could never find adequate words to describe but knew that he was hopelessly addicted to, loath though he was to admit it aloud.

Ever since he and Naruto had begun their awkward courtship Gaara had come to realize that there were few things that he had thus experienced in life that he enjoyed more than the kisses he received from his friend-turned-more. As much as he hated invasion of his personal space, the Kazekage secretly enjoyed any sort of affectionate contact, including hugs – it most often made him panic and tense to be held in such a manner but he reveled in it nonetheless – because he knew what a life of solitude was like and learned to welcome affection when it was offered. But anyone could hug another, his sister habitually hugged her kunoichi friends on greeting and it was a common enough practice among most children and, as was the case with Naruto, anyone could fall subject to lust. Not to say that he didn't enjoy their more spontaneous and erotic times together – ultimately futile though each attempt for more had so far proven to be – but still the pale teen leader could admit that he felt simple touches of kisses like these to be more intimate to him. Anyone and everyone could hug and fall prey to their baser instincts, but to take the time to express emotion through a kiss spoke silent volumes to Gaara and always he felt warm and cared for in a way that almost made him ache when it was gone, knowing that he had lived so long without such warmth that he could not bear to lose it again. He was as addicted to Naruto's taste as much as the feelings that he invoked in the redhead, each caress a silent promise, yet still he knew that he had no desire to receive affection in the same sort of way from any other person so long as the blonde foreigner was willing to offer something to Gaara. Naruto made him feel content, even if only for moments at a time, and he treasured it.

Gaara lifted his hands from the armrests of his chair, half-consciously aiming to pull the anbu down into his lap so that they might continue with the pleasant distraction in a more comfortable position, but as he moved so did Naruto. The blonde pulled away, breaking the kiss and leaving the pale Kazekage flushed and confused as the hands that had reached out met only empty air in place of a warm body. The smiling anbu grasped the outstretched hands and with a small tug urged the smaller young man to stand, but Gaara resisted. He sat, frowning minutely, with just a look minty green eyes demanded explanation.

"Come on Gaara, trust me," Naruto urged, once more tugging on the hands he held.

Gaara didn't really feel the need to answer that. It wasn't that he didn't trust Naruto – he did, very much so – but he didn't like surprises, so he asked instead, "What are you planning?"

"Just a relaxing little excursion together, that's all. You know, head outside, get some air, escape this mess before you kill something…" There was a teasing note in his voice that took any possible sting out of the last remark. "Come on."

"Brilliant," the redhead snorted and tried to pull his hands free but was held fast, and it wasn't yet worth the effort of trying harder to escape. Still the suggestion fed the embers of his temper and he felt his earlier irritation rushing back to the surface. "'Escaping this mess', as you call it, is what got me into this in the first place, in case you'd forgotten. Somehow I doubt repetition is going to make it go away any faster."

"So delegate."

"I can't."

"You're the _Kazekage_," the blonde pointed out exasperatedly, giving another little tug "You can't possibly tell me that they can stop you from going out and taking a walk to clear your head, can you? It's not like there's a war going on, trade reports and mission statements can wait a few more hours. Come on, humor me?"

After much more whining and wheedling Naruto finally managed to annoy the redhead into giving in, grumbling that he would go on the damn walk if he would just shut the hell up about it already. The anbu ignored the attitude and grinned triumphantly as Gaara stood and walked around the desk toward the door, only to be blocked by his bodyguard, whose grin took on a decidedly mischievous twist.

"Don't forget your gourd," Naruto prompted.

Gaara paused, cocked his head a little to the side and appraised the figure in front of him. "Where exactly do you plan on going that I would need it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I don't know… outside the walls maybe…"

"…Why?"

"Oh you know," he waved a hand idly, "walk around, see the sights, spar without causing massive property damage…"

"Spar?" Gaara echoed, not entirely sure he was hearing what he thought he was. Surely not. "Are you insane?" he wondered, genuinely puzzled.

"Eh, that's debatable," Naruto temporized, "But come on, think about it. When's the last time you had a good spar with someone, huh? How many people here can put up a fight against you when you go all out? You're stressed and look like you want to kill something," which was indeed true because the redhead was glaring with ever-increasing ferocity as Naruto spoke. "It'll do you good to have someone to take your frustrations out on."

But the Kazekage wasn't so easily convinced and continued to glare darkly. He did not move either to exit or back towards his desk, but it was more because with his temper roused again he wasn't sure that he wouldn't take the blonde up on the offer and attack him right off if he tried to move one way or the other. He was angry, he was getting easily angered over the tiniest of things and it just made him more angry that he was losing control of himself. Gaara hated not being in control. But while the suggestion may have been sound, the redhead doubted the other young man knew exactly how much the demon in him was thirsting to rip him to pieces. He most definitely didn't want to hurt his best friend. Something of his concern must have shown on his face though because Naruto just smiled disarmingly.

"Hey, c'mon, don't be like that. We're both jinchuuriki, right? We can't possibly maim or kill each other without putting a lot more effort into it than either of us is willing to give. I can hold my own against you and you need the release."

The Kazekage glared and the anbu coaxed and in the end sand was gathered into a familiar weight on one's back and the pair left the office full of papers behind.

They didn't speak. Gaara wasn't in the mood and Naruto didn't pry. Still, the silence was a companionable one as they walked casually through the streets, acknowledging the occasional hails from the villagefolk going about their business, purchasing a few bottles of water along the way, heading inexorably toward the chasm in the wall that marked the entrance to Sunagakure. At least this time they wouldn't be running off virtually unannounced.

"Kazekage-sama!" guards at the forefront of the chasm saluted their leader as he appeared, surprised and confused by the visit.

"I'm going out to spar for a bit," he stated smoothly, "I don't wish to be disturbed until I return."

"But, Kazekage-sama!" the jounin in charge protested, "There are training grounds within the Village, surely you'd –"

"Prefer to have more space, yes." Gaara interrupted with a tone that brooked no argument. The man hesitated then sketched a bow and stepped out of the way of the leader and his hitherto silent bodyguard. The redhead paused just as he passed the guards and spoke without turning back. "I expect to have a vigorous workout. I am absolutely not to be disturbed no matter the chakra levels you may feel. Understood?" The guards saluted their acceptance of the order and the pair continued to walk out into the hot midday heat.

Dunes arced like frozen waves and heat shimmer sparkled over the landscape. Occasional rocks, smaller siblings to what protected the village, peeked out of the sands like little islands in the dry sea. Mostly desolate terrain as far as the eye could see ringed the village and the two young men put on a minor burst of speed across the shifting sands. About a half a kilometer out, they stopped, judging it far enough distance to leave Sunagakure protected from even their most vicious attacks.

"Right, so here's the rules," Naruto began once they'd stopped, standing a meter or two apart waiting to begin. The anbu pulled off his mask and worked on removing his gloves and bracers while he spoke. "First off, no sand armor."

"Excuse me?"

"No sand armor," he repeated, walking away to set down the removed pieces of gear in what he hoped was a far enough distance. The blonde debated removing the vest but decided to just leave it on; the protection might help. "You rely too much on your defenses, Gaara, you need to learn how to dodge."

"I can dodge," the Kazekage protested indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh huh," Naruto muttered disbelievingly as came back to his previous place, "You and I both know that your 'ultimate defense' isn't entirely foolproof. Maybe if you actually try to evade some hits instead of letting the sand protect you all the time nothing would ever manage to get past it."

All right, well that did make a certain kind of sense, Gaara supposed, so he stopped firming the sand against his skin and let it slowly crawl over his body back to rejoin the gourd-shaped mass at his back. It was true enough that hits occasionally got through his defense, and Naruto and that irritating Akatsuki that had kidnapped him weren't even the only ones to manage it. Limiting the amount of hits that might land on him, thus how many attacks his defense would have to block, logically would lessen the likelihood that anything would get through it. And besides that, the sand armor took a hefty amount of chakra to maintain, and while the demonically enhanced reserves were great they were hardly infinite.

"So, second rule. We can use the chakra of our parasites, but no transformations." Naruto snickered to himself and twirled a hand in the air. "So no bubbly red chakra suit for me and no fat tanuki sand suit for you, 'kay? If either of us does we'll just have to knock the other out of it." Also a reasonable demand and Gaara nodded his acceptance. The blonde grinned and shifted into a battle-ready position. "Right then, let's begin, eh? And don't bother going easy on me, Gaara. Come at me with all the killer intent that you like; I can take it."

Despite the assurance Gaara was still a little hesitant to actually attack Naruto so after a long moment of waiting, the blonde rolled his blue eyes and decided to start it off himself. Although he knew it was coming, the Kazekage was still surprised to see a wall of sand spring up in front of him, blocking the attack aimed at him, followed twice more to the sides blocking kicks and again to the front after that. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea – Gaara wasn't particularly inclined to maul Naruto at the moment.

"Dodge, Gaara," the anbu murmured tauntingly, coming close enough that he was nearly whispering it in the pale teen's ear and since he wasn't attacking his proximity wasn't blocked. Angered by the comment, he swung an arm out to backhand the grin off the tanned features but met only empty air. He spun around, looking for the anbu, and found him tsking disapprovingly a meter away on his other side. Gaara glared, angry as much at himself as the blonde. The Kazekage was slow, by shinobi standards, and never saw a reason to rectify the fact. Was it really so bad that he relied on his defense so much? It had served him for most of his life, allowing him to safely sacrifice speed for power.

Granted there was that three year period where he didn't have the demon making the defense an unconscious response, but by then he had already been the Kazekage and rarely found need to fight or even spar beyond self-training. His methods had always been enough before – his kidnapping and subsequent death notwithstanding – and he didn't much like the insinuation that his tactics were _lacking_, no matter the logic of the other young man's argument.

If Naruto wanted a fight, so be it.

When the blonde made another feint at the barrier, rather than let him retreat immediately after as before Gaara reached his arm out towards the wall of sand, which mimicked the movement and a grainy hand formed out of the wall, grasping the anbu's ankle firmly. He was pleased to see the moment of surprise register in the cerulean eyes before he closed the hand painfully around the limb and swung his arm around in a wide arc. The sand obediently echoed the action and Naruto was ripped off his feet and pulled through the air with an undignified yelp, where at the end of the arc the hand abruptly released and sent him skidding across the dunes. Reflexes were all that saved the foreigner from ending the unwanted maneuver with a gritty lunch, as he managed flip so that he skidded with both feet and one hand to the ground steadying him. He didn't comment, only launched himself back at the dark-clad redhead with a series of punches, kicks, and other such rapid taijutsu maneuvers. But once provoked, Gaara didn't remain on the defensive. Instead he glared and sent whips of sand against Naruto from a distance.

In this fashion the anbu gained little ground, launching attacks only to be met with tendrils of sand that would set him back where he started from. When it became obvious that he could get no closer with simple taijutsu, the blonde began upping the ante. First kunai and shuriken were intercepted and fell ineffectually from their target, then the anbu's short sword came from its sheath to hack at the attacking sand, the separated pieces falling uselessly down until the grains were caught up once more in the tendrils. The precious few seconds allowed Naruto to close the distance between them by a bit, but the Kazekage was a quick study and adapted before he could get too close. The amount of sand streaming through the air quickly doubled, easily more than a dozen curling ropes of tiny sun-warmed stones rolled through the air – it almost resembled some sort of desert octopus protecting its master with angry tentacles.

Always one to dive in head-first, Naruto continued his unsuccessful attacks for some minutes more, managing to get about a meter closer to his opponent but no more. But never let it be said that Uzumaki Naruto had climbed the ranks to anbu without being adept at thinking on his feet. With a bit of chagrin – he hadn't sparred with Gaara for a long time, true, but he was quickly remembering just how good he was at keeping people away from him – Naruto fell back to his signature move: _kagebunshin_. A half dozen clones popped into existence mid-air while the original narrowly dodged a line of sand. Uniformly the figures all began to run toward the Kazekage. The tendrils hardened into sharp lances and aimed at each approaching form; two were taken out by the spears as the other five tried to get closer. One clone had the brilliant idea of trying to run along the line of sand it had just avoided, only to find his 'path' shifting and curling up around him. The small pop of his decomposition was lost in the airborne cocoon.

By the time only two figures were left, both of which were carrying _rasengan_ in their palms, the distance from Gaara was noticeably smaller. Both anbu figures launched their attacks, one a half-second behind the first. The first was impaled upon the wall of sand before the jutsu could connect and both the clone and attack popped out of existence. Naruto himself had had enough warning to backpedal out of the way, tossing the _rasengan_ in the process, although it landed against sand and exploded into a small sandstorm as he escaped.

"Gaara, you're not dodging," the blonde chided as he tried to reclaim the preciously won ground between them. He cursed under his breath as a cloud of sand crashed down on the dunes where he had been, forcing him – sneezing – back again.

"I don't have to dodge," the Kazekage answered crisply, "if you can't get close enough to make me."

"That's not the point of this though," Naruto protested, dodging another whip of sand only to get slammed in the ribs by another while he was in the air. Dust trailed him as he skidded away and he came up from the hit angry, not because he had been hit but because he could tell by the force that it was only a 'love-tap' by the redhead's standard. Gaara was holding back still, and he didn't like that; he wanted the other teen to let go. "Fine, have it your way."

In the next instant Naruto created a hundred clones and set them all to converge on the redhead with the sole goal of reaching him. Many were taken out quickly as the tendrils of sand began to spin quickly and, like the blades of a blender, tore up many of the clones upon contact. That was alright, they were mostly the blonde's shock troops anyway, he had another tactic. While his clones were getting slaughtered, the anbu strengthened four to hold their shape through some abuse and ducked under the encounter to dive through the mess of shadow bodies and sand to read the place where Gaara's barrier extended. The automatic defense sprung up a wall of sand around Gaara as four Narutos attacked it on each side, _rasengan_ in hand that ripped and tore at the wall. Too quickly for it to repair itself, the defense broke through on one side and Gaara twisted to watch, stunned, as a small space twisted and broke open and a hand reached through the hole. A tan hand snatched the redhead's black jacket and yanked him forward. Both pale hands raised and slammed against the wall as Gaara came rushing towards it, and Naruto's smirking face, visible in the broken chunk of wall, blurred as the distance between them shortened. A short, fierce kiss struck the Kazekage speechless even as the other teen pulled away.

"Gotcha," Naruto murmured smugly before disappearing.

Gaara stood, blinking dumbly for a moment and wondering what exactly had just happened.

Ah yes, the little minx had managed to get past his barrier. Well, he had rather challenged the anbu about the exercise, but now Naruto had just proven his point. Dammit.

"_UZUMAKIIIIII!!!!_" Gaara roared, angrier than he had been since they had left the Village. He raised both arms from his sides, palms up, and all around them the dunes twisted and churned and heaved and as great waves of sand rose up like a tsunami headed at him in every direction, Naruto could do only one thing.

He laughed.

He continued to laugh until the sound was swallowed by the tidal wave of sand with a _whoomph_ as they all collapsed in on each other, causing a plume of dust to rush up into the air upon impact. It wasn't enough to kill the blonde, not by far, but it made him shut up while he concentrated on staying alive while buried under the heavy weight of hot desert. Gaara could feel the mass of bodies struggling their way back to the surface and got a perverse sort of satisfaction out of contracting the sand below until all the clones popped out of existence and wrapping tightly around the original, enough to cause a bit of pain but not enough to break anything, and yanking Naruto up, gasping, past the surface into the air and then unceremoniously dropping him back onto the dunes where he landed with a dusty muffled thump.

"Oh, eww. I have enough minerals in my diet, thanks," Naruto complained as he got to his feet, sputtering sand and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Without missing a beat, the anbu unsheathed his sword and hacked at the giant sand-hand coming towards him, slicing off the fingers and down through the hand until the tiny stones fell back to the ground. "Really, Gaara, that was just nasty."

"Then maybe you should learn to dodge," the redhead quipped back. Arcing blades of wind slamming into his shields was the answer he got for that suggestion. Gaara smirked.

The weaving tentacles of sand around his body continued to move and strike out against the infuriating foreigner that was currently doing his best to invade the Kazekage's personal space. It was like a game of tag, an easy warm up that became increasingly heated as the pair became more serious. Before long the simpler attacks of kunai and sand whips were forsaken, moving onto stronger moves that kept both on their toes. Naruto employed an array of jutsus that he had accumulated over the years, including a couple that he had developed himself, although he avoided the use of the _rasen-shuriken_ - both because he didn't really want to rip the Kazekage to pieces if the attack landed and because he also had no desire to shatter his arm whether he hit or miss anyway at the moment. Gaara also used more jutsus, all sand-based as were his standard, in addition to simple manipulation of the landscape and used the material from his gourd to enhance the speed and power of his attacks.

"Dodge, Gaara!" the blonde called warningly as a sickle of wind sliced through the barrier and a taut fist aimed directly for his delicate cheek. Grudgingly accepting that Naruto wasn't going to give up on his current project, the redhead actually tried to avoid the hits when they came for him, although he also did his best to irritate his opponent by not letting him get close enough to attack. Both were succeeding in their personal goals rather decently and were an even match for each other. Even so, Gaara had a lot to learn about avoiding getting hit, for even as he ducked the punch a leg to his shoulder blades sent him sprawling across the ground. He crouched on the sand, snarling quietly and barely had time to cross his arms defensively in front of himself before the attack was repeated - his defense ripped apart and a physical blow sending him skidding. It was disheartening to realize that the wind elemental blades were getting through his defense, meaning that throughout his life his own sister had always had the possible ability to kill him. Granted, Naruto was drawing heavily on his chakra reserves with each attack so it probably wasn't possible for just anyone with a wind affinity, but still it made him dimly appreciate his sister more for never having tried to assassinate him, despite their father's hatred of his youngest son.

It was fortunate for the Kazekage that he had the home field advantage in this fight; their very surroundings for kilometers around were his weapons. As another repetition of the effective attack that the blonde had discovered came towards him, Gaara concentrated on the sand around him. Naruto would break through his barrier, yes, but in the precious second that the attack took the pale teen planned to catch the other figure in a trap, one which Naruto fell into as expected. When he paused for the brief second it took to tear through the sand defense a great gritty maw opened at his feet and swallowed him down into the ground in one large bite. The Kazekage stood, dusting himself off slowly and grimacing at all the granules underneath his clothes and irritating his skin. It was one thing to have a layer of sand compressed against his skin as a defense, it was another thing entirely to have loose grains fluttering around with every movement. It _itched_!

He barely had time to force the sand out from his clothes before Naruto finally forced his way explosively out of the makeshift quicksand. When he escaped, slouched and panting from the effort, Gaara had no trouble sensing the sudden new influx of demonic chakra and knew that if he were to get close enough he would see red flooding the usual cerulean. Well, damn. That certainly raised the stakes. Shukaku hissed and snarled and howled against his confines for the freedom to go out and eviscerate the Youko.

It was by sheer force of will that Gaara resisted forming up his armor as Naruto launched himself forward again with a snarl. The use of the demon's chakra gave the blonde a boost to both his power and speed and the young leader was helpless to avoid the next strike, feeling the heavy blow land squarely on his cheek hard enough to send him tumbling and skidding. Gaara rose to a crouch, carefully cupping the side of his face that was now throbbing dully and rolled his jaw experimentally, feeling and hearing it pop with the movement. Ow, that had hurt. The reflexive glare pulled at the now-tender flesh and the pain throbbed harder. Dammit, it _hurt_! Shukaku whined to be let out and Gaara aimed a mental kick at the bars to shut him up. Even so, he drew upon the alcoholic tanuki's power to level the playing field. After all, using their power wasn't against the rules, only letting them out was.

The world suddenly took on a sharper focus, the sunlight and heat glare nearly blinding. Eyes that were now, if he were to look in a mirror, black with inhuman gold iris' saw a myriad of colors that the human eye was normally incapable of seeing. Even the simple beige of the sand all around them took on a dozen hues of brown and gold, The demonic red chakra flared around Naruto's body, a plethora of shades and colors to his sight, invisible but for his enhanced sight. It was beautiful, in the objective sort of way that Gaara viewed such things, and it was almost a pity that his sight could not remain as such on a regular basis; sadly, only scent and hearing could be enhanced regularly without constant draw on the captive chakra.

When the next attack came, the Kazekage reached out and caught the fist, arm aching from the impact but holding fast, and followed it with a punch of his own before the other got the chance. Naruto twisted, the force pushing him away but the hold on his hand kept him captive and he was yanked back to receive a knee to the gut and another hit to his back to slam him into the ground. Immediately the foreign anbu reached out for the redhead's ankle, only to snarl in rage as he was blocked by a wall of sand. Aside from that automatic defense that he had no control over, their spar took on a decidedly more feral and supremely more vicious tone. Less jutsus were exercised, focusing more on brute strength and attacks meant to rend flesh from bone. Any who might witness the battle, had any been there to see it, might logically assume the pair were fighting for their lives against each other given the ferocity with which they now fought. For the first time since they had begun, blood was drawn and stained the sand and air around them. Naruto was panting, covered in dozens of cuts and scratches of varying depth and even Gaara had taken a few hits hard enough to break the pale skin and was bleeding from a cut on his cheek and a couple others on his arms and legs. The scent was heavy and distracting and the hissing of the demon in his head mixed with the dull roar of rushing blood in his ears.

Naruto stood from where he had been struck away a moment before, summoning up a pair of _rasengan_, one in each hand, and rushed forward once more. Tired, but far from his limit still, Gaara raised his arms and summoned up a mass of sand, using some of his gourd sand to ease the control, and closed a cocoon around the blonde mid-step, the swirling masses of chakra getting extinguished like flames in the _sabaku sousou_. The Kazekage panted, clutching a wound on his right bicep with his left hand, and shuffled closer to his captive. The tan face was still free, red eyes blazing angrily and whisker-scars puckered from the snarl that revealed the elongated canines that came with the demonic package.

"Gaaaaraaaa...!!" Naruto hissed as he approached, voice full of deathly promise that made the redhead shiver to hear. He struggled against his bonds, trying futilely to have enough freedom to summon up some wind jutsu to break free.

"Naruto," he answered gamely when he reached the cocoon. Naruto snarled again but the small movement only served to draw Gaara's attention to the line of blood dribbling down from the blonde's split lip. It was hypnotizing, the way it broke free to roll down to the dark chin and pool for a moment, unsure whether to continue down the neck or drop off the peak. The captive snarled again, demands unheard by his entranced captor, and the rivulet wobbled on the chin ready to fall. Quickly, Gaara darted forward and caught the bright red drop on his tongue before it could fall, licking upwards to catch the rest of the trail and then pulled that broken bottom lip fiercely between his own and sucking. He moaned deeply as the coppery liquid slid across his tongue and down his throat and in the din in the back of his thoughts, Shukaku hissed and purred for more. Naruto balked for a moment, struggled to get free, but then paused as tongue and lips pressed hard against him and his focus shifted, he struggled towards his captor, straining his neck forward to deepen the kiss and claim more.

The sand dropped away as the redhead pressed himself closer to the other figure, raising his hands to curl into the fine blonde locks that were damp with sweat and pulled Naruto closer so that he could not escape the furious kiss. Not that he had any reason to, no when the anbu felt himself freed he wrapped his arms around the smaller young man, running his hands over every surface he could reach, the two holding so tightly to each other that there was barely room to breathe between them. It didn't matter, Gaara wanted more, he needed to be closer, he wanted to crawl inside the other's skin until there was no distinguishing line between them anymore. The blood faded, the blood clotting quickly, and the Kazekage used his own sharpened – albeit smaller – incisors to clamp down on any flesh in reach, easily breaking the skin of lips and tongue again and feeling the fresh rush of blood, swallowing the groan the bites caused with feral joy. The scent of blood was now so heavy in the air it was almost heady, crashing over his senses until he could think of little else, but riding the wave was the increasing musk of arousal.

Gaara wanted more. Unintelligible whispers goaded him to devour the figure in his arms, to take everything. The standard issue white anbu vest didn't entirely survive the frenzied attempt to tear it off, not that it had been in much shape from the spar to begin with, and was soon tossed, forgotten, into the sands. A few other articles of clothing soon followed, until the pair got distracted with the new expanses of flesh bared from the waist up. Without warning Naruto caught his foot behind the other shinobi's ankles and pushed against his torso so that Gaara stumbled and fell back against the sands. He landed awkwardly, due to the fact that the blonde's arms were firmly wrapped around him and that his own jacket wasn't entirely removed, just open, and caught around his arms making it hard for him to break his own fall. Naruto loosed one arm to prop himself up, lying it hand-to-elbow along the sand by the Kazekage's shoulder while the other flitted across his hip and chest.

Gasping and twitching, Gaara squirmed away from the touches. He wanted a kiss, craved more, but the anbu pinning him down was too intent on his attentions to the pale chest to oblige. So the redhead turned and caught the arm lying next to him in his teeth, licking at an earlier wound and lapping up the fresh blood the pressure of his bite caused. Naruto grunted softly, pulled his arm away and gave the demanding young leader the kiss he wanted, deep and heavy and breathtaking in its intensity. Their canines clashed harshly against each other, scraping soft flesh with each passing and tongues explored every available millimeter of space, tracing every firm ridge of the palate down to the sharp and blunted edges of teeth. Impatient and needy, hardly coherent but for the loud rush of instinct screaming for more, Gaara raked his nails down tan back, enjoying the way the muscles jumped under his touch, and frantically began to tear at the black fabric encasing the blonde's hips.

The foreigner seemed to like this idea and shifted his weight back to his knees to free his hands to return the favor and strip the Kazekage of his own pants as well. They were awkward and clumsy, kicking off the garments with a great deal of flopping and thrashing that kicked up small clouds of dust. Naruto put his weight back on his hands on either side of the fiery locks and moved to slip between the pale thighs when Gaara balked, snarling enough that his fangs showed and tossed his head to snap at the nearest available flesh while he tried to buck the heavier teen off him. Naruto hissed back above him and for a moment they tussled and wrestled for supremacy.

Still, the anbu was stronger and had better leverage. He caught both delicate wrists and stretched them up over head, pinning the Kazekage down and holding him there with his own weight pressed, flushed and sweating, together. When he came back for a kiss Gaara reflexively bit the proffered lip in angry retaliation, but Naruto didn't pull away and the fresh trickle of blood that flooded his mouth and mingled on their tongues made him shiver and moan in delight, forgetting for a moment why he was angry as he thoroughly enjoyed the taste. Thus distracted, Naruto transferred his hold on the wrists to one hand and slid the other down along the taut and quivering body to grasp at a thigh that seemed to have never seen the light of day, jerking it up around his own hip.

Gaara broke the kiss with a howl, body twisting and arching off the sands as he was swiftly entered, face strained and panting hard as the sensation was so intense that spots appeared behind his lids. It hurt, terribly so, but there was something more – it was bittersweet and so so strong and he wasn't sure if he liked it or hated it but it nearly pushed him off the edge just the same. Shukaku howled in outrage in his mind, so loud he nearly drowned out Gaara's own thoughts in the nearly-incoherent tirade. _Get away from the Youko!_ the beast demanded savagely. He gasped as Naruto rocked into him again, prying his eyes open and seeing the bright points of red watching him. So much red, so many hues, he could see so many colors in those irises.

But red was the Kyuubi…

He struggled again, momentarily panicked by his demon's protests. But no, there was purple in those eyes. Shades of blue amidst the crimson swirls and when the lips touched his again, feathering a dozen little kisses across his face, he remembered that this was Naruto. He wasn't – they weren't! – the parasites inside. Just them, just Gaara and Naruto.

He _wanted_ Naruto.

With an absent mental kick to the demon's cage, which left the whiny bastard howling even more at his 'stupid, useless, weakling of a host', the Kazekage turned to capture the passing lips once more with his own. He shifted his other leg up onto the blonde's hip, welcoming him, and tugged again to get his wrists free. Growling and giving him a warning nip on the jaw, Naruto released him, bracing himself on the sand with one arm and clutching at a pale hip with the other. Gaara wrapped his arms around the broader shoulders and clung tightly with a small whine.

The pain faded to a dull ache, leaving only an inscribable… _something_ spiking through his nerves with each thrust. The redhead gasped and tensed as something shot through him like lightning and made his skin feel tight as though every hair stood on end, then groaned as the feeling passed. More, he wanted more; Gaara shifted and counter-thrust to the teen above him trying to get that feeling back. It was difficult, as Naruto was using all of his demonically enhanced stamina to move quick and rough, giving the redhead little time to adjust to the tempo, but when he did Gaara found himself nearly mindless from the pleasure.

In a short eternity the darker teen's movements became erratic, losing the steady rhythm he had adopted before and Gaara gave up any pretense of trying to keep up, just clung on tightly enjoyed it with every small gasping breath. Naruto rocked unsteadily, trying to control his pace with a bruising hold on one of the narrow hips.

"Please," Naruto whimpered urgently, the first word spoken in a long while, kissing Gaara's chest and licking at the sweat in the hollow of his collarbone. The redhead cracked his eyes open, nearly blinded by the sudden onset of light and color to his enhanced eyes and quickly shut them again with a groan. "Please, Gaara," he continued hoarsely, "come for me. I can't take much more."

The young Kazekage groaned again at the entreaty – he was getting close, but not as close as Naruto sounded. He shifted his weight, arching his back and hitching up his legs a little higher, trying to fall back into that rhythm he had before but it was hard to find with Naruto's irregular thrusts. Realizing the difficulties, the anbu let go of the other's hip and moved between their sweat-slickened bodies to grasp at Gaara's arousal, desperately pumping to help him along. Gaara gasped and tensed, not expecting the touch or the increase in pleasure that crashed upon him at the contact. "_Please_," Naruto begged again with ragged breath.

With an incoherent growl of frustration, Gaara loosed a hand from where it was clutching at the broad shoulders and followed the path between their bodies, smacking Naruto's well-meaning hand away to take care of himself. Concentrating everything on the sole purpose of cresting the peak that loomed so close, the redhead fisted himself quickly. He kept his back arched, muscles stretched and taught, pushing himself desperately closer as the whispers against his neck demanded. It didn't take him long, as he was already so close and was able to keep up a less erratic pace on himself, and with a sound that was a disturbing mix of growl and groan stiffened as the orgasm flooded his senses. For a long moment he was nothing more than a bundle of nerves, pleasure rolling out from his belly to every last fiber of his being with an intensity that only years of repression could cause. His skin felt tight, vibrating like a taut chord and his eyes clenched so tightly at the sensation that stars danced behind his lids. He barely noticed as his other arm fell limply to his side, displaced from the tan shoulder, that he had unknowingly scratched deep furrows into, when Naruto shifted his weight back again, grasping firmly at both hips and letting go of the last of his restraint.

Gaara came off his high and managed to open his eyes just in time to see the other teen follow his example with a moan. The foreign anbu lowered himself back down quickly, nose buried in the pale column of neck that was bared to him. The howl suddenly pierced the air as Naruto bit down harshly on the Kazekage's shoulder was deep and feral, and in a daze Gaara realized that the sound was from both his pain and Shukaku's outrage. The beast slammed at his bars, making his host even more disoriented, and screamed obscenities at the foreign jinchuuriki that couldn't even hear them. He felt more than saw Naruto climax, shuddering against him and causing the oddest sensation from the sharp incisors still buried in his flesh. When it passed, the blonde lapping at the pooling blood and kissing the wound in silent apology, he wrapped his arms tiredly back around the dark shoulders and enjoyed the afterglow.

Soon enough Gaara was shifting restlessly, hissing at the headache Shukaku's bitching was giving him, along with the uncomfortable feel of drying sweat and sand granules stuck to his skin. As he moved, he also realized just how much he hurt. All the wounds from their spar added to the prior exercise left him feeling shaky and bone-weary. Naruto carefully lifted himself and sat back on his haunches, giving Gaara the space to carefully raise himself up into a semi-sitting position. He hissed with every movement, making the blonde give him a worried glance. The colors were dimmer, he realized, though not really surprised to find that his hold on the demon's chakra had faded – or rather that the whiney brat had ripped all his power back in a fit of pique.

"Are you all right," Naruto asked hesitantly, worry clear on his features as he reached out to brush a hand across the redhead's cheek, pleased when Gaara nuzzled tiredly into his caress.

"The pest is complaining again," the Kazekage explained tiredly. With another aching hiss, he moved to touch the mark on his shoulder, frowning when his hand came back sporting twin spots of blood. "Bite much? When is this going to stop bleeding, ugh."

Naruto kindly refrained from commenting on the hypocrisy of complaining about bites, but instead frowned at the mark which was, indeed, still bleeding. "Why aren't you healing?" he wondered. Gaara stared at him blankly so he decided to elaborate. "Why isn't he healing you? See, mine are already half-healed," he pointed to a few of the scratches on his body, including the fresh lines on his shoulder, "Kyuubi does it. So why isn't your pest stopping the bleeding yet?"

"They can do that?" he blurted in surprise. Naruto just blinked.

"Well, yeah…"

"Why that little…" his eyes lost focus for a moment as he turned his attention to the snarling tanuki in his mind, demanding to be healed. Shukaku just humphed and snidely refused. Gaara swore again. "Greedy little parasite! Says if I'm going to let myself get hurt I can deal with it myself." He snarled again and aimed as hard a hit as he could muster at the beast, satisfied when he got a yelp for his efforts. So intent on his mental argument with the demon that he didn't notice the way Naruto moved closer to him until he squeaked with surprise when the arms wrapped around him.

"_Shukaku_," the voice was low and menacing, lips brushing over the bite wound on his shoulder. Gaara was very highly disturbed to realize that the voice was a strange mix of both Naruto's and Kyuubi's voices together and struggled against the hold. Shukaku hissed and howled angrily at the sound of the other demon. "Heal him," came the growled demand.

His demon balked again and Gaara thought it prudent not to pass the insults on.

Naruto bit down lightly over the previous bite on the shoulder, not hard enough to reopen the punctures but enough to draw attention to it. "You are _mine_, Ichibi," he hissed, and the redhead really wasn't sure which creature was talking anymore – the human or the demon. "You _will_ heal him, understand? Obey." Shukaku howled so loud in outrage that Gaara actually winced, then degraded into nearly incoherent rambling at every conceivable fault of his host. Even so, the Kazekage was startled to feel his skin tingle as though with static charge. He took a glance at his arm, where a gash from their spar had been and watched, fascinated, as it healed up leaving only a small line of dried blood to mark its place. Oh yes, he could get used to this indeed. He didn't really understand why his parasite obeyed the command, but he wasn't going to complain with the results. Within minutes he felt no more then a telltale ache for all the previous strain.

"Mmm, thank you," Gaara murmured as the hold slipped from around him and he took a moment to stretch a little, enjoying the painless motions. He was relieved to see, when he dared to look, that Naruto's eyes had returned to their original crystal blue – being that close to the most powerful known demon was disconcerting, to say the least, and Kazekage or no he would be pleased to avoid such things in the future. "Ew. I want a bath." Gaara declared suddenly and with obvious distaste at the current state of his body, sand stuck to his body in clumps from drying blood, sweat, and semen. It was unpleasant and he had a hard time trying to coax the moist sand _off_ of him. "Now."

The blonde chuckled but without further ado began gathering up the battered remnants of their clothing to redress. It took longer to find Naruto's anbu mask and other accessories, but eventually they made their tired way, sharing shy and gentle touches, back toward the village. Beaten, tired, and sore, but Gaara did had to admit that he indeed felt better; Naruto was very nice to have around.

* * *

notes: Waaah, I'm sorry if my smut sucks T-T First time I've ever written it, but if I didn't get around to it after all the times I had the poor boys interrupted, doragon-chan might have killed me... I hope it wasn't too bad... ::hides under table in embarrassment:: 


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING: More M-rated smut in this chapter. If you shouldn't be reading this, then please don't. Otherwise, enjoy.**

Sometimes, Gaara thought to himself as he filed out of the Council chamber and down the halls, being one of the five people acknowledged as the most powerful in the world wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Sure, take the strongest people in the five largest nations and stick them behind a desk to push papers all day every day instead of being out in the world employing the skills that got them the job in the first place. Brilliant. How long had it been now? Five years? Something like that, and in all that time the Kazekage had done little but paperwork. His spar with Naruto two days prior had brought to his attention just how lacking he was in physical exercise; hard to get a good practice partner when you were the strongest, right? Though he never would have expected it before, Gaara missed the few years of his youth when he had missions to do – places to go, sites to see (not that he had appreciated it much at the time), people to kill… it was all very nostalgic now. He wondered again what possessed people to think that it was wise to make aristocrats out of warriors.

"Irritated much?" his anbu companion asked when they were in a space of hall clear of any but themselves. Gaara flicked a glance at him but otherwise didn't respond. "You should know as well as anyone what politics are like." He paused again when a pair came through the hall in the opposite direction, continuing again when they were out of earshot. Not that he was really saying anything secretive, just that it didn't seem proper for the Kazekage's bodyguard to be chatting away with his charge. "I learned a long time ago that, with very few exceptions, the rich and powerful of the world just suck."

Gaara snorted derisively. "I'm aware of that, I assure you. My own father was hardly a poster child for the rich and benevolent."

"Here here."

They continued walking in silence to the end of the corridor to where a flight of stairs led them up two flights into yet another hall looking almost exactly like the one they had come from.

"I blame you for this, you know," the Kazekage stated off-handedly as they took a turn to the left. Naruto made a startled sound of inquiry so he continued with a smirk at his masked friend. "Used to be a time when I would just kill all the idiots that wasted my time. But you had to go and give me a damn conscience so I have to put up with their inane demands and not-so-subtle jockeying up social ladders that no one but they actually care about. It'd be so much easier to just kill them, so as far as I'm concerned it's all your fault that I let them live."

The blonde tilted his head and affected a look behind the mask of careful thoughtfulness. "Well, at least your own people have stopped trying to kill you. For the most part, anyway," Gaara grunted grudgingly at the point. "And if I hadn't 'given you a conscience', as you put it, you probably wouldn't even be Kazekage now."

"Am I supposed to thank you for that?" the redhead wondered idly with a bemused quirk to his brow ridge. His life had been an endless nightmare of paperwork ever since he had been given the position, he hardly considered it a favor, whatever the silly blonde's delusions about the joy of being a 'Kage. Naruto considered this as well as they walked.

"Point," he conceded finally as they made the last turn to enter the hall that housed the Kazekage's office. The pair didn't even miss a step as an unexpected scent caught them by surprise and they both sniffed the air experimentally. Gaara frowned imperceptibly and Naruto bit back a laugh.

"Kazekage-sama!" Matsuri called out in surprise from her desk in the antechamber before Gaara's rooms. He stopped at the desk at her hail. "You're back later than usual. Long meeting?"

"Indeed," the redhead agreed, trying not to get irritated again by the events in the previous meeting. Really, he was a shinobi, why did nobles have to come bother him about things? He'd just as soon ship them all out to bother the Nation Lord but he knew already that such an action would hardly gain him any favor with the Lord, and even if the Village _was_ the main power structure of the country, it didn't pay to piss off the man who ruled said country. No, best to forget about it before he got annoyed.

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you? Tea perhaps?" the chuunin aide continued. The cheerfulness was a little forced, Gaara noticed as he leaned forward a little to scrutinize the girl. She looked tired, slight darkening under her eyes belied insufficient sleep – and oh, Gaara was a past master at all things regarding sleep deprivation – and her overall appearance seemed a little mussed.

"Get more rest." Gaara told her firmly with a small frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Though his expression was hidden, Naruto was smirking and biting his lip to keep silent. Matsuri blinked in surprise and Gaara straightened and continued before she could ask. "I'd rather not have to hurt my brother for wearing out my aide and leaving her exhausted." He looked pointedly at a shadowed corner at this statement.

Matsuri squeaked and stammered denials that fell on deaf ears as the Kazekage only turned and continued on toward his office. Naruto lagged a little behind, watching in amusement as Kankurou stepped out of the shadows with an embarrassed grimace and the poor girl was nearly glowing she blushed so much. Both seemed completely confused.

"Smells like sex," Naruto commented by way of enlightening the couple. Their expressions perfectly mirrored each other as they shifted from confusion to comprehension to downright horror and back to numb confusion again. The anbu casually tapped the vulpine nose of his mask as he passed them in the wake of his companion. Kankurou grimaced again; he, at least, understood the silent message, as he knew about his brother's heightened senses. He heard the puppeteer mutter 'damn jinchuuriki' under his breath as he passed the door into the office and let it shut behind him. Gaara was already sitting down at his desk and glaring at the work he had to begin.

Naruto paused less than halfway in the room, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight more to his right side while he cocked his head a little, scrutinizing the other occupant. He debated internally with himself for a moment; Gaara looked angry, but then he usually looked angry about something. Such irritation was also often used as a tactic to hide something else that he was feeling. The anbu was a little worried, to be honest, but with an internal sigh he decided to just go with what he always did and ask outright.

"Are you angry?"

"What?" The look that the redhead aimed at his bodyguard was fit for one who wasn't quite sure he had just heard what he thought he'd heard, for surely he wouldn't have been asked such an asinine question. He then blinked. Then frowned. "Of course I am," Gaara snapped, "I hate those idiotic little brats. Damn nobles with nothing better to do than waste my time in petty squabbles,"

"Not them," Naruto interrupted the oncoming tirade quickly, "I meant _them_," The Kazekage blinked again, following the gesture as the blonde jerked his thumb out behind him toward the door.

"Matsuri and Kankurou?" a quirked brow ridge in confusion accompanied this question.

"Yeah,"

"Why would I be mad at them?" Gaara was honestly confused by this question and for a moment forgot his other irritation in the force of his sheer bafflement. The anbu across from him rolled one shoulder in a shrug but didn't answer – though it was more because Naruto wasn't really able to come up with a reasonable response to that. The anbu fidgeted, fingering his mask, and the other teen just smirked. "My brother can date whomever the hell he wants. If they're happy, all the better – as long as she doesn't get too tired to work, some of these files would be a mess without her help." So saying, the Kazekage fingered a file with obvious distaste before dropping it back onto the desk with a disgusted sigh. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with things just yet. It occurred to him that maybe the reason his late and unlamented father was such an ass all the time was because he was forced to deal with idiots and bureaucracy like this on a regular basis, it was liable to make a saint homicidal and shinobi were certainly far from being saints.

It was truly mind-boggling why the brats came to him to solve their problems. Granted, some of the nobles that came to him were a decent enough sort and relatively reasonable about their requests and accepting of the judgments he meted out. It was the young ones, though young was a relative term since most were still older than the Kazekage himself, which were the real troublemakers. Somewhere along the line it was as if their entire generation was spoiled to the point of stupidity and they all thought that their rank or status entitled them to whatever they wanted. That they actually believed that a village of fighters would concede to their whims and wishes was further evidence of their idiocy.

The day's audience had been especially irksome for the leader. A pair of the noble brats were contesting rights over some item or other. One swore that the other stole it and demanded the whatever-it-was back with added reparations and the other swore that it had always been his, a gift from someone else long before. It was bickering, pure and simple, and Gaara wanted nothing more than to ban them from ever entering his Village ever again and spare himself the nonsense.

"Hey," a gentle query interrupted his gloomy thoughts, "are you all right? Should I get you some tea after all?"

Gaara smiled weakly at the offer, "Yes, that might be nice. Thank you."

A sudden commotion outside interrupted anything either of them might have said next. A simple thought of _oh no_ was all that flickered through the redhead's mind before the door was rudely flung open and young man in his early twenties and richly dressed as a nobleman strode making loud demands. Matsuri was a step behind, trying to tell him that he couldn't just barge in but the man, Noburo as Gaara recalled, didn't stop until he nearly decapitated himself walking into a blade held up at the level of his throat. Noburo managed to stop in time, staring incredulously at the blade, then followed the steel to the figure holding it and glared haughtily at the anbu.

"I'm telling you, sir, you can't just walk into the Kazekage-sama's office!" Matsuri snapped with strained politeness, but the man ignored her completely.

"Lower that weapon right now," he ordered tersely, managing to look down on Naruto despite being of a similar height. "I am Iwasaki Noburo and I not be threatened by a peasant." He moved to step forward again but the blade flicked closer and the masked anbu tsk'd in warning. "I demand you get out of my way!"

"I'm sorry Kazekage-sama, I tried to stop him, but short of… unpleasant force I wasn't…" she trailed off as Gaara dismissed the apology with a small wave of his hand and with a very contrite look, stepped back out the door back to her own desk.

"Kazekage," Noburo turned his attention back to the leader, not even bothering with the most simple of honorifics, "I want your decree on my situation, I will not be put off any longer. I demand you make that man give me back my property!"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me? How dare you!"

"I dare whatever I please," Gaara told him coldly, glaring from his place still behind the desk. He'd had enough of these brats and invading his office with more petty demands was beyond tolerable. "This is my office and furthermore _my_ Village. Now you will shut up and get out."

"I most certainly will not! Not until you make that man pay!"

"You are in no position to make demands. Try it again and I'll be collecting reparations from you instead."

"You wouldn't dare! My father would –"

"– do nothing. I am the Kazekage and you are a petitioner of my village." The cold and emotionless tone provoked the young noble to move forward again but before he could even blink two things happened. First was that Gaara disappeared from behind his desk and stood glaring directly in front of the man and the second was that Naruto sheathed his sword at his back and stood at attention while the other teen crossed the room. Noburo gasped reflexively and jerked back in surprise to suddenly find the Kazekage in front of him where he had been across the room a moment before. "Say one more word," Gaara hissed threateningly, "and I will ship you back to your precious father in pieces. Settle your own damn disputes without crying to someone else to fix it for you. Now, if you'd like to hire a guarded escort to take you back Matsuri will be perfectly capable of negotiating a fee for our services. Otherwise, get out."

Noburo gaped like a beached fish but either fear or instinct for self-preservation kept him silent as he was herded non-too-kindly through the door. A long, silent minute passed with the room filled only with the sound of angry breathing. Gaara made no move to go back to his desk and instead looked more like he'd rather make good on his threat to pulverize the rude brat outside.

"Want me to take care of him for you?" Naruto offered finally, breaking the redhead from his rather bloody-minded thoughts. Gaara snorted and rolled his eyes a little as he turned back towards the desk.

"Unfortunately we can't really kill the idiot, tempting though the prospect may be."

"Well, I was thinking more along the line of some unpleasant and untraceable pranks," the blonde admitted with an amused laugh, "But you know, that works too."

"Oh…. Well, damn."

"What, so you do want me to kill him?"

Gaara looked away and muttered an unintelligible response, even to Naruto's keen hearing. He let the subject pass with a sigh, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes in an attempt to regain some semblance of calm. It wasn't wise to write up friendly letters – read: mildly subtle reports on the exchange and tentative probing of outside situations – to the other ninja villages when one was feeling angry and short-tempered. Causing an incident over a rude letter wasn't a pleasant prospect, after all. Though, to be fair not all of the letters were difficult to write. Communications with the Hokage and the Raikage were relatively easygoing and a little less than formal, as was with the leader of Amegakure since their two villages had had many contacts in the past due to their relative proximity. Still, there was seven letters to write in varying degrees of formality and tact and the Kazekage was simply not in the mood.

A pair of hands grasped Gaara's shoulders and pushed him away from the back of his chair. Hazy green eyes opened in a glare at the disruption to find Naruto edging him forward on his own chair and then climbing in to sit snugly behind him without so much as a by-your-leave. The redhead glared more fully over his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded coolly, expression stating in no uncertain terms that he was not amused.

"You need to relax," Naruto told him, pressing a hand against the pale cheek and gently pushing the other teen to look forward again and away from him. Gaara snapped back around with a darker glare.

"I was trying to," he pointed out dryly. A hand on his cheek pushed him away again. He was sorely tempted to bite it. Unfortunately the appendage retreated too quickly and both palms settled over his shoulders. Now, as a rule Gaara wasn't a touchy-feely kind of person. After all of his attempts in childhood to get closer to people all ended up as a slap in the face he'd decided that keeping everyone _away_ was much preferable. Despite the progress he'd made over the years and that Naruto and his siblings were, to a degree, the exceptions to this rule, he was still a rather unapproachable guy. Thus it really wasn't overly surprising that the Kazekage, nineteen years old though he may be, was clueless about something so simple as a massage. He growled as the fingers pressed into his shoulder muscles and moved and repeated the process again. The pair bantered for a minute as the redhead demanded to know what the hell his companion was doing to his neck and Naruto tried to explain the concept of a massage to him. Gaara finally conceded to let Naruto try to help him relax – he'd heard of massages, after all, even if he'd never had one himself and had heard that they helped relieve tension. Even so it was several minutes before he began to truly relax into the ministrations.

Skilled hands coaxed the knotted muscles loose in the pale neck and shoulders, alternately pressing and rubbing to soothe away the aches. Then they moved lower down the back, paying particular attention to knots just below the shoulder blades, which made Gaara gasp and groan involuntarily. By then the redhead was getting drowsy and sagged bonelessly against the form behind him, as Naruto was still between him and the chair's backrest. This made it a little difficult for the anbu to work his hands between their bodies to continue massaging along the slim back, but he managed to get all the way down to the narrow hips before working his way back up again. Gaara let his head fall back to rest on the blonde's shoulder and all but purred in pleasure.

The position was too tempting to ignore so, freeing one hand from its task while the other pressed against the muscles along the spine, Naruto hooked a finger around the black collar and pulled it down to reveal more of the neck that was bared to him. Just feather-light kisses at first while he nuzzled the soft skin gently, enjoying the scent and feel of the smaller figure, but soon he got caught up in his own teasing and pressed firmer kisses. The redhead hummed and tilted his neck a tad more – an open invitation – and even wrapped an arm up loosely behind Naruto's neck as though to keep him in place. He had no problem with that, of course, and progressed to nibbling on the fair flesh, licking and sucking at the sensitive hollow behind the jaw.

His neck was a very sensitive spot for Gaara and soon he was squirming restlessly in place with shallow little gasps. Naruto growled warningly at the figure writhing between his legs but continued his assault nonetheless, giving up any pretense of massage and slipping his other hand around the Kazekage's waist. Gaara wasn't surprised to feel the hand working at the buckles of his vest; he had a sneaking suspicion that Naruto had a fetish for relieving him of his clothes whenever he could get away with it. He didn't really understand it – Gaara didn't think he was really _that_ attractive that anyone would want him stripped whenever possible – but he let the blonde have his way and simply enjoyed the touches. It really wasn't long before both the vest and jacket were open, seeing as how Naruto had been accumulating a lot of practice in recent weeks, revealing the trim expanse of creamy flawless skin.

Twisting even further in place, Gaara turned enough to break the blonde's attention to his neck and instead captured the tortuous lips in a demanding kiss. Even so, it was languid and relaxed and the anbu opened his mouth willingly to the questing tongue. Nimble fingers danced across the bare chest up to the neck and applied pressure in a long, slow line down the side of it in a way that made the redhead shiver in response.

"Is this a massage, too?" Gaara whispered against the other's lips. He slipped the arm that wasn't wrapped around the blonde's shoulder over the arm currently lying across his stomach and laced their fingers together.

"I dunno," Naruto murmured back, "Should I stop?" the question was punctuated by another deep kiss that made the redhead moan appreciably.

"Hnnn, no," he answered breathlessly, "I don't think so."

As Gaara debated interrupting their play long enough to turn around in the seat to face the sly young man behind him, he didn't notice the quick use of a familiar jutsu until something touched his knees and started moving up his thighs. Surprised, he turned his attention forward again to see a second Naruto crouched on the floor between his knees and sliding his hands slowly up Gaara's legs. This of course gave the original Naruto access to his neck once more, an opportunity he didn't waste a moment in exploiting and in the next instant the Kazekage was gasping at the series of bites, licks and sucks being applied to his neck. Why did he have to be so damn sensitive there, anyway?

The clone wasn't helping with his self control, either, as he had reached Gaara's hips and was now teasing over the edge of the waistband while planting kisses across his abdomen.

"That's not fair."

Both Narutos just smirked. The original pulled the redhead into another deep kiss, running tan hands over his neck and chest, while the clone slowly undid the drawstring of the Kazekage's black pants with his teeth, hands occupied with rubbing small circles on the clothed inner thighs. For a second Gaara thought he heard a growl, but he was a little too preoccupied to notice or care who it came from. It was frustratingly distracting having so many points being teased at once. If he focused on the attentions of one he would get caught off-guard by the other. Gaara was tempted to destroy the clone just to keep from being overwhelmed by the plethora of sensations, but oh how could he consider that when the shadow copy was doing such delightful things? Like opening the redhead's loose pants using only his teeth and freeing his half-formed arousal to the cool air that was made warmer by the proximity of hot breath…

Gaara let out an undignified yelp as the anbu behind him bit down hard on the tendon of his sensitive neck while at the same time the clone took another sensitive area into his mouth. He growled softly, or he thought he did... someone did. His dark charcoal rimmed eyes – because a few years of sleep can't erase a lifetime of sleeplessness – fluttered weakly, as reflex had him squeezing his eyes shut and desire had him forcing them open to watch. The Kazekage had never imagined that such a sight as the clone was presenting could be so erotic. The original would not let himself be forgotten, either, and ran his hands over every available centimeter of skin that he could reach and shifting the gasping leader to the side and attacking the other side of his slender throat with equal enthusiasm as before. He attempted more kisses but Gaara was a little too dazed to respond well. The clone sheathed his teeth with his lips and applied painless pressure to the shaft. When he pulled back and curled his tongue around the head Gaara exploded from his chair. Quite literally.

In the next instant the two Narutos, one still in the chair and the other sprawled on the floor where he had been pushed, blinked in confusion at the panting Kazekage now standing several steps away and leaning heavily with one arm propping him against the wall. Then the two looked at each other in mirrored confusion, shrugged, and the clone disappeared in a small wisp of cloud.

"Uhh, Gaara? Are you all right? What's wrong?" Naruto asked hesitantly but with obvious concern, a little disturbed by the panicked look in the light green eyes. Gaara just shook his head as though to clear it and pressed his free hand against his temple. The blonde stood and walked closer, but before he could touch the other teen Gaara jerked away and stumbled back.

"Don't!" he snapped, trying to keep the anbu away, closing his eyes against the wounded look in the azure eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want Naruto around, not at all, but sometimes having a voice in your head could put a severe dampener on the mood. _Shut the hell up and go back to sleep!_ Gaara snarled at Shukaku, who was currently subjecting his host to a loud and nearly incoherent tirade about his indiscretions – or so he thought, it was hard to understand the beast when he was in a screaming rage. He numbly realized that the growls he had been hearing had actually been his demon waking up from his sleep until the bastard had woken up screeching. Nothing like a banshee in your head to ruin your day.

"Come on, talk to me. What's wrong?" Naruto reached out again but stopped when the redhead flinched at the motion.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Gaara snarled, and then felt a little guilty for being so harsh. It wasn't really Naruto's fault, after all, so he sighed and tried to ignore the ranting in his skull long enough to form a coherent reply. "Shukaku is having a – what did you call it? – hissy fit?" The blonde's hurt and confused look shifted to irritated understanding.

"So what's his problem this time?"

"You."

"…Excuse me?"

"He hates you," Gaara informed him simply, eyes getting a little glazed from the effort of concentrating on one conversation and ignoring another. Unfortunately, the demon was louder and impossible to escape and seemed completely insensible to anything his host tried to say. He kept talking, focusing on the words slowly because he couldn't even hear himself think anymore. "He hates you, and the Youko inside you, too. He hates that we're together…" he trailed off, frowning as he tried to understand the demon's ramblings. Reflexively his hand moved to cover his shoulder, the place Naruto had bitten him before. Even with demonic healing the wound retained small punctures from the canines, the only other marks to mar his skin besides his own self-inflicted scar on his forehead. He whispered the next words quietly, like it was an epiphany "He hates you for claiming us, and me for letting you…"

"What?" the blonde began but stopped, taking on that distracted look that meant his own demon was talking to him. Good, it spared Gaara from having to concentrate more. A moment later the whisker-scars shifted as his lips pulled in a frown of distaste; obviously his demon had explained just what it had meant. "I'm sorry, Gaara. I didn't know."

"Sorry for what?" the Kazekage asked suddenly with a slight scoff, "Sorry that you claimed me?"

"Of course not!" Naruto protested, indignant at the very concept and faced the disbelieving glare until it subsided. "I'm just sorry that it upset Shukaku so much, I didn't want to cause you any more trouble…"

"The bastard is always trouble," He got a spike of pain through his head as his demon slammed against his cage for that statement. Gaara cursed demon pride to every hell imaginable for causing all this. Shukaku was weak and knew it, but was too proud to accept it and hated that he was claimed by another demon – how this involved the demons when it was the hosts that tussled Gaara had no idea – that the demon was the Kyuubi no Youko, known to be the most powerful of the tailed beasts and at the opposite end of the power spectrum from Shukaku, was insult to injury as far as the whiney parasite was concerned. He was _not happy_ about the situation and was damn well going to let his host know of his displeasure.

"Here, claim us back!" the anbu offered suddenly, pulling the collar of his shirt aside to bare his neck. Shukaku almost laughed but was still too angry to.

"Doesn't work that way."

"Yeah, Kyuubi just said so too. Well, what does he want then?"

"Your blood."

He answered without thinking and confused his companion, as was evidenced by the puzzled expression on the tan face. Gaara sighed and elaborated. It wasn't hard since Shukaku had many vicious fantasies on this particular subject.

"He wants your blood Naruto. He wants to rip to you pieces and drink your blood until there's nothing left of you that he hasn't taken."

Saying it aloud managed to shift the demon's focus from his earlier tirade toward the new topic of carnage and the pale redhead closed his eyes against the imagery and pleaded with the beast to shut up and go to sleep.

"Here," Naruto said quietly after nearly a minute of silence. When he opened his eyes, Gaara saw a familiar dark hand held out before him, palm up and pooling with blood from a fresh kunai slash. "Take my blood then, if that's what he wants."

Although the smaller young man remained frozen in place, staring in mute incomprehension, a tendril of sand came from behind his back and curled beneath the outstretched appendage to catch a drop of blood before it hit the floor. It moved then and encircled the bloody hand, turning dark from the liquid that stained the grains and Gaara couldn't help the small gasp that escaped him. He wasn't controlling it, but he could feel it nonetheless, the way it curled around his lover's hand – yes, they were lovers now whether his demon liked it or not – squeezing at the flesh for more blood even as he knew the wound must be healing fast.

The blood mixing with his sand was strangely erotic to Gaara. It felt like Naruto was with him, in him, part of him forever. Shukaku purred in pleasure; he'd have liked more, of course, but he always loved blood and the blood of his mate – rather the host of his supposed mate, but these details seemed to me lost on the demon – was doubly rich to him. Whether it was from his beast's enjoyment or his own, Gaara moaned as the blood seeped into his sand. When the sand had collected all it could from the wound and retreated, the host himself took the appendage in his hands and licked up the last of the blood from the cut before it fully healed and let the taste coat his tongue and slip down into his belly.

"Looks like he's not the only one that likes blood," Naruto commented with a wry chuckle. Further comments were silenced by another kiss from the hazy youth. Slim fingers overlaid the whiskered cheeks, holding him close, and the anbu responded by slipping his arms around mostly-bare waist and holding the lithe form against himself tightly. Gaara thoroughly explored the warm cavern and pushed forward, making the blonde stumble back to avoid falling over but stopped when the desk edge against his thighs halted his retreat. Releasing his hold long enough to slip out of his jacket, the Kazekage returned his hands instead to the slightly heaving chest and snapping off the armor with quick and efficient movements. Naruto craned to attend once more to the slim neck before him and with a small whimper Gaara let him while he quickly worked to remove the other's close. Naruto was forced away when his black shirt was pulled up over his head and before he get back to what he was doing, slim but strong hands pushed against his now-bared chest and forced him back onto the desk.

One pale eyebrow arched in silent question but no answer was forthcoming. Only a lusty growl before the redhead virtually pounced on the waiting anbu, pinning him flush between his own warm body and the equally cold desktop. Naruto moaned as wet warmth touched his chest, tongue flicking and circling over a nipple, catching it in pearly white teeth so that the blonde gasped and continued to tease the darkened flesh ruthlessly. If Gaara's weakness was his neck then Naruto's was surely his nipples, a spot that was admittedly not much affected on the redhead but it amused him to see his lover writhe from so delicate a touch on so small a spot.

Hands buried themselves in the soft red spikes, whether to hold him in place or to make him move neither was really sure, but Gaara growled at the touch and looked up through his lashes at the gasping blonde. It was fortunate he didn't need seals or jutsus to control his sand, it was almost as easy as breathing for Sabaku no Gaara, so while he moved to repeat treatment on the other bud across the chest he discreetly collected a suitable amount from around the room and forced it to his will. Before Naruto could react properly his hands were pulled from their clutch in the red hair. He gasped in incoherent confusion and Gaara enjoyed the shock on the darker face when he saw the sand clone pinning his wrists to the desk.

Turnabout was fair play, after all.

He bit down on the nipple lightly, catching the blonde by surprise while he was distracted, then as he soothed it away with gentler licks the clone moved to nuzzle and nip at Naruto's neck and collarbone. Gaara didn't want to hurt his lover, after all, so he was careful to break down the grains until they were nearly dust, a clone made of fine powder whose touch more resembled rough velour than the usual sandpaper.

"That's not fair," Naruto grumbled halfheartedly, echoing the earlier complaint. Gaara grinned against the skin of his stomach.

"Hypocrite."

A sudden waft of blood made Gaara raise himself up a little in surprise, thereby catching sight of the fresh bead of blood pooling up from the smirking lips below. Oooh, wicked wicked man! He had bitten his lip to gain attention. Before the bead could fall Gaara lapped it up with his tongue and delved his way back into the taunting mouth to claim every drop of the delightful substance that he could gather, moaning as it slid down his throat. Oh he surely had issues for blood to arouse him so much, but now he didn't care, only slipped his hands down their bodies and blindly freed them both from the rest of their clothes. It was somewhat disturbing that now Shukaku was now being supportive of their tryst – well, relatively so, he had his own ideas about what he should be doing to the blonde below him – crazy bipolar whiny bastard.

It took more control than the Kazekage thought he had at that moment not to thrust into the sexy body beneath him quickly, instead pushing slowly, moving little by little as the muscles accepted him. Gaara remembered what hard and fast was like before, and while he was a bit of a masochist and hadn't minded at the time he didn't really want to return the treatment if he could help it. Shukaku purred to take him quickly, and for that reason alone he would take it slow; the beast wanted his lover to suffer, so his host would do just the opposite. But oh, it was so damn hard to resist the warmth beckoning to him.

Naruto was writhing impatiently by the time he was fully sheathed, using the legs around his hips to start him into a rocking rhythm. He obeyed willingly enough, tempo increasing with every second that passed. Soon enough even his demon's voice was drowned out by the harsh pants in the air and the blood rushing through his ears. Files and papers fell unheeded to the floor from the force of their movements. Gaara kept his hands firmly on Naruto's hips, using the leverage to keep up a steady pace. The clone, made of sand as it was, shifted and slid a second pair of arms out, slipping along the trapped arms and over the chest to tease once more at the sensitized buds, making Naruto moan and buck. The sight was sexy beyond words.

"Don't stop. Don't stop!" Naruto gasped out suddenly, eyelids fluttering in pleasure for a moment before letting out a low groan of disappointment. He started shifting restlessly and Gaara as well shifted and tried to get back to whatever it was that had caused that reaction, not quite sure what caused it or what changed but trying to find it again nonetheless. It took a few moments, but finally the blonde gasped and crooned in delight and Gaara was careful to maintain the exact movements for as long as he could. It was difficult to keep such control with such a sight before him, his lover's skin getting slick with sweat and rippling with each tensing muscle, the way the eyes were closed tightly and the kiss-bruised lips parted to emit needy little gasps and whispered demands. The young Kazekage freed one hand from the bucking hip and grasped the other teen's neglected arousal, drawing a long, low keen from the foreigner.

"Dammit, Naruto…" Gaara whispered hoarsely. He was reaching his limits, of both his control and his pleasure, and he knew it. It took concentration to stave off the peak looming before him; he did not want to finish first and willed the blonde to come quickly. His pace started to get erratic, earning hisses and whimpers, but still he was pleased to see the look of pure ecstasy bloom across the whiskered face before he faltered completely. Whispering an irreverent prayer of thanks, Gaara let go of his restraint and shifted his body to get an angle and speed that made the final distant stretch rush by and soon he collapsed onto the heaving body below him, shuddering and dizzy from his climax.

A long minute passed by in silence, the young leader half-standing but resting comfortably on top of his bodyguard, lulled by the strong heartbeat under his ear as they both caught their breath.

"Hey Gaara, let me go?" A tug at the sand clone's bonds demonstrated the meaning of that request and with a tired snort he dismissed the creation to settle back onto the floor. Naruto wrapped his arms around Gaara's shoulders tiredly and gently stroked his fingers along his spine.

Gaara almost didn't want to get up, he was perfectly content to stay on and in the foreign shinobi for a good long time, but he knew better and with a purely mental sigh levered himself up and carefully stepped away. Naruto shifted himself up onto his elbows and watched in amusement as the Kazekage started gathering up their clothes.

"You've wanted to do that for a long time, haven't you?" the anbu asked finally.

"Yes." He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a slight blush on the pale cheeks along with that admission. Naruto grinned.

"I wonder if I should be jealous, I think we just had a three-way with your desk."

"Idiot."

The insult was uttered in a friendly way, so Naruto grinned despite the remark and the black shirt thrown at his head. When he pulled it off, Gaara was standing close and gave him a quick kiss, as though in apology. They dressed slowly, tempted to leave off the outer layers of vests and armor, but ended up wearing it all anyway – if they gave in to any more habits of forgoing garments they'd end up walking around nude before long, best to maintain formality. Gaara settled back into his chair with a small smirk; his office was definitely going to carry a rather different set of associations to him not. Maybe now he get those letters written. Shukaku had retreated back to his cage at some point during their lovemaking and was blissfully silent. A sudden cry of dismay drew his attention from writing rough drafts in his head.

"Aww, all the files are a mess again! I've already had to re-sort them twice!"

* * *

current word count: 54,658 (give or take a word) Geez, I'm approaching novella length and not even done yet...

notes: I don't know why, I just thought Kankurou needed someone too and they'd make a cute couple, maybe. ::cough:: yeah...

Waah, I wrote smut again::hides:: Not sure why, but not entirely pleased with this chapter... It was supposed to end differently, so now I'm not sure whether to rewrite the end or just work in the missing point in the next chapter. We'll see.

Review, pretty please:3


	8. Chapter 8

konpeitou: Yeah, so this chapter took me exceptionally long and I'm really sorry for that. First the last chapter didn't end how I intended, so it took some reworking... but then when I got the chapter finished, finally, my beta kinda vetoed it and chopped it up. But her points were valid and she was right about all the things that were wrong, so I yet again had to do a massive overhaul on this chapter. Between all the rewrites, dealing with school, and working (with way too much overtime for 3 months straight) it took me a long time to finish. At least this version has passed inspection and I can honestly say I'm more happy with it than the original. I'm sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy.

* * *

No matter what, there were always simple pearls of wisdom that, if followed, would help in continued survival. Little things like always carry water, take shelter from sandstorms, always assume the other person lies… and is armed, never drink cactus juice; little things like that. Another such pearl would be to stay out of Sabaku no Gaara's way when he's in a bad mood – bad moods generally lead to pain and/or death for whatever hapless victim crossed his path. Adults of Sunagakure weren't overly fond of their Kazekage anyway, the teenagers of his own age range still had vivid memories of his bloody childhood and were careful to watch their words and steps, and both groups warned the younger children to run along the other way. 

No one knew exactly why the Kazekage was angry, nor how it could keep him angry for the span of nearly a week and counting. Only that he was and it was best to wait until the storm blew over, as it were. The Council conceded to having shorter meetings, Baki took to divvying out a hefty share of the missions, Matsuri tried to stay out of the way and refrained from prying or even joining him to chat over tea. They were subtle aversions and each person's way of trying to help Gaara while at the same time protecting their own skins. The conspicuous absence of the Kazekage's foreign bodyguard left many Suna natives wondering just what the anbu's tactic was for dealing with an angry Gaara.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to think it prudent to impart such warnings to the rest of the foreigners currently residing in the village. It was taken for granted that Naruto was well aware of the rules, and it wasn't much of an issue for the old man Raiun who, when faced with the irate Kazekage, had brushed the encounter off as happenstance and offered up some of his Lemon Sour Patch Nin to lift his spirits. Happy yellow candies were not what Gaara needed at the moment and it was truly a wonder that the elder man seemed so completely unawares to the extreme desire the redhead had to hurt him in some way. Mizore was perfectly content to ignore the Kazekage as much as possible and so was unaffected by the mood swing, but the remaining four shinobi weren't quite so fortunate. Well, three actually, since Seiki from Kirigakure hadn't yet returned from the mission he had been assigned three weeks prior.

The jounin from Kusagakure hadn't fared too badly, fortunate enough to have a simple mission report to turn in and an equally simple one to pick up, but the Iwagakure hunter-nin had been precisely the opposite. His report was long and filled with excessive details and multiple complications leading up to the capture of his target. The mission had taken him a month, even in joint with several other Sunagakure hunters, all of which had stood fidgeting throughout the debriefing and the unlucky foreigner was made de facto leader. Better to let the fresh meat step into the tanuki's den first, they figured, maybe the Kazekage would think twice before taking out any frustration on them. It was a wise choice on their part, though not one the Iwa-nin was particularly pleased with them for.

At the moment, though, it was the jounin from Takigakure that was currently taking up space in the Kazekage's office. The man wasn't very old, only about twenty-six or so, and looked more like he should be leading a genin team of his own instead of running solitary. Gaara glared over the tops of his clasped hands at the jounin currently seated across from him in the only other chair in the office, sipping at the tea he had blithely helped himself to.

"Have you ever considered redecorating, Kazekage-sama?" Nishin asked, brown eyes scanning over the office with a curious and slightly critical note. Gaara twitched but the jounin kept going. "The harmony of this office is just dreadful. It'd do you wonders to liven it up a bit; open up a window, maybe get a bit of water in here…"

"I'll take that into consideration," Gaara replied, his flat and even tone belying the irritation he felt. Nishin nodded, making the light green wisps of hair that were free below the black hitai-ate bandanna that covered the top half of his head bounce cheerfully, and took another long sip of tea. He wanted to ask why the man was sitting around in his office chatting about nonsense but the Kazekage knew it would do him no good. Foreigners did things different ways and it wouldn't do to be undiplomatic. Shukaku scoffed at his reluctance and Gaara simply wasn't in the mood to fight with the beast at the moment. So instead he studied the man before him and let the babble wash over him half-heard.

The jounin from Takigakure still looked a bit young for his age, looking scarcely older than his sister, despite the two scars crossing his face; one running horizontally from nose to ear below the right eye and the other running from just right of the center of his forehead at an angle down across the right eye to just below the point of his cheekbone. His vision seemed unimpaired, a small break in the scar's path over that more sensitive flesh, and Gaara wondered how he had received such distinguishing marks at such a young age. Most shinobi he knew took a bit longer to work themselves into danger enough to earn deep and scarring wounds. Well, to be honest Gaara was rather sure that he and Naruto would've sported similar marks if not for their demons.

The Kazekage hid his sudden scowl at the direction of his thoughts with a slow blink and a sigh, ripping his mind off track and back to the matter at hand. Nishin stopped speaking about whatever it was he had been going on about – something about _feng shui_ and _zen_ – to stare quizzically at the younger leader.

"I'm sorry," the redhead apologized coolly, stone-faced façade coming readily to his features. The lie felt bitter even as it rolled easily off his tongue after so many years of practicing false pleasantries. "I'm very busy and need to get back to work. All of our missions requiring jounin rank have been assigned today. If you'd like to come back another day I will see if something is available for you then."

"That's no problem, Kazekage-sama," Nishin replied with a wide grin, one that Gaara found distinctly disturbing though he couldn't say quite why. He set his tea cup down on the tray as he stood, surreptitiously brushing dust from his black and light blue uniform before propping a hand on his hip in a pose that seemed thoughtful if not for the broad smile that was turned full force toward the Kazekage. Gaara was surprised to feel perturbed by the look, and if he had to put it to words he'd say it looked sly, though whether it was innocent or not he couldn't say. "I'll just take this bit of time to relax, then. Maybe we can talk some more." Nishin turned on his heel, shoulder dipping in a way that almost seemed like bow, and left the office, calling back "Have a good day, Kazekage-sama," as the door shut behind him.

Gaara stared at the closed door a few moments longer. Sometimes he really hated being Kazekage. Sometimes he really hated being himself. He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against them until stars danced behind the lids. It wasn't that he hated people, not really, it was just that he couldn't help wanting to avoid them. The urge to keep his distance was easier to bear most times, and he was getting better about it, but when he was worked up like this it was more than his nerves could take to endure the social flood. He wanted to just crawl in a hole and wait until the world made sense again. Not that it ever really had, but that was beside the point.

The door swinging open interrupted his introspective thoughts before they spiraled any further, and with blurred and hazy eyes Gaara glared at his brother, who only reflected the look back as he shut the door firmly.

"What happened?" Kankurou demanded without preamble. The maroon stripes on his face only served to make his eyes seem more ominous as he stood with his arms crossed on the other side of the desk.

For a second Gaara wanted to snarl at the interruption, brother or not. Couldn't he get any peace? Instead he forced false carelessness as he bit out the simple words "Excuse me?"

"I want to know what happened. You've been walking around like wrath incarnate for a week now. A week before that you were happy as a salamander. Now either you've gone bi-polar – which I severely hope isn't the case because there's only so many issues I think I can handle – or something happened to piss you off. So what is it?"

This time Gaara did snarl, an angry rumble that didn't sound entirely human even to his own ears. "Mind your own business, Kankurou."

"You're my brother, it is my business," the elder persisted, standing his ground in a way that the Kazekage might have found admirable at another place and time; it was certainly a novel experience for the kugutsutsukai just come at an ill-time. Still he didn't waver, matching his younger brother glare for glare, body language alone stating in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to back down from this.

Gaara decided not to reiterate his refusal when a good steady glare would say it for him.

Unfortunately, Kankurou had long since become unaffected by his younger brother's glares since he stopped killing at whim. Or if he wasn't entirely unfazed he did a very nice job of looking like he was, as he stared back expectantly. He even started a slow staccato of his foot tapping against the floor in the silence. One could almost hear the crickets chirping as well, adding to the sketchy breaths in an eerie beat luring out the beginnings of a psychotic episode.

"Did someone die?" the elder brother asked suddenly, watching Gaara's expression for any change or clue that might indicate whether he was hitting close to the mark. He didn't expect an answer and wasn't disappointed when the stony face remained the unchanged. "I guess not, you wouldn't really be that angry unless me or Temari died... She didn't, did she?" The slight flare of panic faded before it could fully bloom as yet again the expression remained unchanged. Well, that was good... he really didn't want to hear that his sister had died in a foreign country on a diplomatic mission of all things. "Did one of the envoys cause an incident? Are we at war? Are the nobles harassing you again?" Still no change. He continued in the same vein for some time, asking questions ranging from the state of the Village to the weather, and the only changes he was able to note was an increase in irritation. He started to suspect that Gaara had zoned out on him.

"Did the squirrels run off with all your underwear to use as parachutes for their acorn bombing raid?"

The look of sheer dumbfounded confusion that broke across the surface of the pale face, brief though the moment was before settling back into the expressionless mask, reassured Kankurou. "All right, so at least I know you _are_ listening... hmm." He thought for another few seconds, trying to come up with something else to break his brother out of his self-imposed shell.

"Give it up, Kankurou," Gaara stated finally, voice carefully modulated to be as even and unrevealing as his expression. "Mind your own business and go find something else to do."

"Fine then, tell me what happened to Naruto."

A narrowing of the eyes and tightening of the jaw from clenching his teeth were all that betrayed his thoughts on that question, but it was enough for Kankurou to latch onto. He'd suspected something had happened between them, but now he didn't envy himself the necessity of not only prying into his little brother's private life, but his love life to boot.

"Did you two have a fight?"

"Get out."

"Did– what?"

"Get out," Gaara repeated, voice low and decidedly deadly sounding. Kankurou blinked and forced himself to stand his ground when instinct yelled at him to take the exit while it was offered. He ignored instinct and braced himself.

"No," he answered back with as much bravado as he could muster at the moment, flinching back as Gaara stood so quickly his chair nearly toppled over, the fury almost palpable in the suddenly-confining room. Gaara was well and truly angry, a state Kankurou had not seen for many years and would have been perfectly happy never seeing again. He consoled himself with the thoughts that Gaara wouldn't actually kill his older brother and took what was left of his spine to keep pushing. "I'm not going anywhere now that I know what's really bothering you. So why don't you just tell me what happened with you two?"

"I told you to get out."

"Not until you tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened; now get out of my office."

"Like hell I will, tell me what's going on! I can tell you're lying so just give up the act already, Gaara!" When no answer was forthcoming he decided to push a little harder and take a gamble on a guess. "What did you do to him?"

"What?" The single word came out as a low angry hiss.

"It doesn't take a genius to know that Naruto came here to see you, but while you've been angry all week he's been depressed. I mean, he may not be my favorite person in the world but seeing a guy like that walking around depressed is just... depressing!" he finished lamely, too flustered to think of a better and less-redundant explanation. "He hasn't been in here _doing his job_ the entire time when before you could barely pry you two apart. Now, you being pissed at the world isn't exactly new but a depressed Naruto is just plain weird. So yeah, what did you do to him?"

"What did _I_ do to _him_?" Gaara repeated incredulously, "_I_ didn't do anything!"

"Fine, what did Naruto do?" Kankurou asked instead, taking his cue from his brother's reaction to edit his question a bit. Gaara opened his mouth but just as quickly snapped it shut, resuming his glare full force. The redhead was suddenly furious at the entire situation and even more furious at himself for letting himself fall into it. But damn Kankurou and deciding to be a proper big brother, butting into business that was none of his concern. "You're going to have to tell me eventually, Gaara. Tell me what he did to make you so upset and I'll go beat him up for you." He cracked his knuckles for emphasis, but it was just too absurd an idea to even contemplate; he knew as well as Gaara did that he wouldn't be able to beat up Naruto unless the anbu allowed it and that Gaara was perfectly capable of beating up Naruto if the situation warranted it... at least he could do it far better than his elder brother ever could. Kankurou continued to wheedle and press his little brother for answers, trying to wear down his resolve with sheer bombardment.

"He said he loved me!" Gaara snapped finally, hitting the breaking point of too many voices drowning out his own thoughts, halfheartedly hoping that once Kankurou knew the answer he'd finally give up and go away. It was too much to hope for though, just a short silent respite while the puppeteer reeled back in surprise and tried to process the admission that Gaara was already wishing he could take back. He moved forward, planning to just escape the situation entirely, but his movement knocked Kankurou out of his stupor so that he managed to intercept his escape before he made it to the door.

"Move," Gaara commanded again.

"No," his brother once more refused to comply.

"If you won't get out of my office then I will, move before I make you."

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's _really_ wrong. You can't possibly be mad just because he loves you," Kankurou snapped in exasperation, but whatever else he might have said – if anything at all – died in his throat from the sudden ferocious snarl the teen emitted at those words. In general, Gaara didn't talk much.. or make a lot of noise at all for that matter. He was one of those silent types that preferred to communicate through glares. The rare and vocal warning snarls and hisses weren't entirely lost on the puppeteer and he was left wondering just what the name of the desert could possibly be able to upset the otherwise stoic Kazekage so much – and just what he had gotten himself into. Finally he smacked a hand against his forehead in the universal sign of a weary soul dealing with stupidity, and commented "Oh tell me you didn't..."

Silence.

Then Gaara made another move to the door and was yet again intercepted. Kankurou was just lucky that it had become habit for the redhead to ignore or do the opposite of whatever his demon wanted and so wasn't taking the suggestion of just forcing his way past.

"Look," the elder male said after a moment, tugging off his pointed hat to scrub at his hair in frustration before replacing it with a gruff sigh, "I know we're not that close, but you're still my brother. Normally I think Temari would handle this a lot better, but she's off playing with shadows and you're avoiding a certain other blonde replacement. Now, just because I wouldn't normally say this, doesn't mean it's not true so listen up. I love you, Gaara."

The furious look already filling the green eyes took a turn for murderous that truly scared the other male for the first time in a long time.

"Temari too!" he continued quickly, "We're your family so it's a little different, but we still love you and so does Naruto so –"

"GET OUT!" Gaara screamed, drowning out whatever it was that his brother was trying to say. Enraged, he lashed out with an arc of sand, wanting to make the words stop, hating Kankurou for saying them when he thought that he could trust him. The kugutsutsukai was only fast enough to pull out Karasu as a quick shield but still the attack almost got past the makeshift defense, leaving the wooden face cracked and an arm hanging broken and useless. Splinters littered the floor all around. This time when the redhead tried to run, the elder didn't try to stop him, instead collapsing to the floor of the now-empty office, shaken and scared.

* * *

Gaara didn't exactly run, but he walked with such speed and determination that it may as well have been a run. People ducked away from him in the halls, pressing themselves against the walls in an effort to avoid the obvious rage that surrounded the Kazekage like a cloud. 

He didn't care.

But he didn't know where he was going, either. His only goal was to just_get away_. Anywhere, as long as it was away from everything. It took him a minute to realize that he was treading the familiar path to his quarters, almost to the bridge that led to the other building, and stopped abruptly. It was where he usually went for peace, but he hadn't been there since they...

He made an abrupt turn and went back the way he had come, refusing to enter that room. Away from the room, away from the building that held it, he made his way outside and jumped to a nearby roof. No thoughts, no destination, just moving forward and away from everything that was making his world crash down around him.

Guards and sentries occupied many of the roofs as well, watching for anything from minor street side confrontations to outright invasions. Gaara spotted one standing three buildings away, walking in a slow circuit around his post. Soon he'd turn enough to see Gaara, a moving spot of darkness in the otherwise earthy brown scenery, and would likely wonder what his Kazekage was doing rushing about. He was suddenly afraid that the sentry would see him, stop him, try to find out what was wrong and it'd all happen again. Being out in the open, running and jumping across rooftops was too exposed and this time he was too upset to even spare the energy to hate himself for such cowardice. Shukaku sniggered in obscene amusement at his host's predicament, cheerfully forcing the redhead to relive the unwanted memories, but Gaara didn't have the will to fight with his demon. Not anymore. He accepted the taunts and mocking play-by-play of his misery meekly.

Gaara turned, still keeping the guard in his peripheral, and quickly calculated if he could run around the berth of the building and out of sight in time. The guard turned and with a grunt of frustration he turned and forced his way through the rooftop door a few steps away, shutting it behind him. Once he was sure that there was no one following him, listening intently at the door for nearly a minute, he reached for the handle to escape again only to stop halfway through the motion. He couldn't very well go back outside since the guard was still there and would undoubtedly see him leaving, making the whole escape pointless.

A quick survey of the room found it to be empty – unsurprising, since someone would assuredly have questioned his break in had they been there, a fact Gaara hadn't really considered at the time. It seemed rather barren and unoccupied, actually, and had the overall layout of a vacant flat. With a slight wince the Kazekage started into the room towards another door and presumably a set of stairs leading down, hoping with each step that the rest of the building would be equally as untenanted.

It was.

Despite Shukaku's incessant laughter echoing through his mind, he managed to at least appear like he had every reason for walking out of an abandoned building in case someone happened to see him. He hadn't escaped inquiry only to fall right back into it. But the effort was for naught as the door opened up into a simple three-way intersection, going both left and right and then straight ahead. He looked first left, then right, trying to decide which direction to go, then back to the left – in fact, he wasn't quite sure where he was anymore; things looked rather different on the ground. Shukaku's snide commentary on his decision-making abilities weren't helping with the process.

"Oya oya, if it isn't the Kazekage."

The slow, elderly voice nearly made him wince at being caught before even making a decision which way to go. Gaara turned towards the center path, but the empty apology died on his lips before it could be uttered at seeing just where he had ended up. The clarity of exactly where he was smacked him upside the head as thoroughly as one of his sister's fans. He cut off that line of thought and stepped forward down the center path towards the old man.

Elder Ebizo watched Gaara's approach from behind a bushy set of brows but refrained from commenting until he'd reached the edge of the small artificial pool. "You look upset," was his simple observation. Gaara refrained from snarling back, but just barely. Instead he grunted noncommittally and waited for the old man to say whatever it was that he was going to say.

"Aa, I see," the old man responded, as if Gaara's own response – or lack thereof – was enough to tell him everything he needed to know about the situation. He managed not to snap back something inappropriate by clenching his jaw until it ached, though he really felt insulted by the small words. Nothing in Gaara's life was ever simple and he resented the fact that some old man who'd barely spoken to him a handful of times in his life would think that he could understand any of it after only a glance. Even though he had the feeling that he should be saying something or asking some sort of follow-up to the vague statement, Gaara couldn't quite manage to make himself say anything – he wasn't sure he trusted himself to speak just yet, either. So he stood and he waited when he really just wanted to walk away, but the Elder had called out to him first and even a Kage shouldn't ignore such a summons.  
There was continued silence between the pair, not even the slightest rustling of fabrics, and even outside sounds of the city seemed incapable of coming in over the high stone walls. The water remained serene and still as the line from the old man's rod rested within, waiting the bait to be bitten, if ever. Gaara's already glaring eyes narrowed as no more words were forthcoming. The old man opposite himself just sat as serenely as the water before him, calm in this awkward and deafening silence that was swelling and growing around him like a suffocating nightmare. It was too much and Gaara fought the urge to fidget, fisting his hands by his thighs, which at least helped to dull the pain in his temples by having another ache to focus on. He very much wanted to yell at the man and demand he say whatever he wanted to say so Gaara could get away from there. Elder Ebizo still made no motion to speak – indeed, it seemed like he'd even forgotten that the Kazekage was there.

His wandering eyes caught sight of the second rod lying beside the pool directly opposite of the old man. Staring at it, Gaara wondered with mounting frustration if he was being tested. He waited another minute for something to happen before succumbing to the silent demand and sank down to sit cross-legged in the obviously empty seat. As he reached for the abandoned fishing rod, he noted with a grimace that it used to belong to Elder Chiyo before she had died. Saving him. Gaara ignored Shukaku's comments about what a waste her sacrifice had been and focused instead on tying a bobber onto the line and casting it into the small pool, watching as the series of ripples spread out and dissipated. With a small sigh, he settled in and waited for the old man to finally speak. Shukaku just commended him on his excellent ability to avoid people, keeping up a running commentary summarizing his attempts so far. Gaara didn't even bother to fight back against the cheerful sarcasm.

If he were to be honest with himself, a part of him hoped that Elder Ebizo could somehow help him. Old people were supposed to be wise, right? That's why the Elders were so respected, after all. Shukaku smugly asked if that meant he was one of the wisest creatures alive. Gaara snapped back that he was neither wise nor alive, but amended his theory nonetheless.

When a few more minutes passed, he began to wonder if the Elder wasn't subjecting him to this oppressive silence out of spite… if he didn't just hate Gaara for Chiyo's death. Shukaku seemed to support the conclusion but the demon's opinion was never of much use, anyway. The redhead turned his gaze instead from the still pool to the equally still man across from him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Hey, are you dead?" he finally asked impatiently, tired of waiting for the old man to say something. Ebizo started to shake a little then tossed his head back and lot out a long cackling laugh. Gaara glared, feeling like he was being laughed at and not liking it one bit.

"I used to ask Chiyo-neesan that all the time, you know," Ebizo said in amusement after he'd finished. Gaara just grunted again, hoping that now the Elder would finally speak to him. But no, it was never that easy for him and he found himself settled right back into the awkward silence he'd been enduring before.

"Are there even any fish in here?" he growled after a few more minutes, staring at the two clear lines that disappeared into the too-calm water. He hadn't seen the water move yet and sincerely doubted there was anything in the pool except their bait.

"Fishing isn't about the fish," Ebizo told him, nodding sagely, though Gaara suspected he was actually just nodding off and falling asleep more than anything. What did that even mean? Why was he being subjected to this?

"There's no fish, are there." It wasn't really a question.

The old man's head slipped down and jerked back up again, but he said nothing. Gaara sighed.

"There's no fish…"

Gaara was sorely tempted to just destroy the whole place, but since that wasn't really an option he settled for slapping a hand over his eyes and dragging it down his face with a low growl of supreme frustration. He spent another few minutes mentally grumbling to himself before he was pulled out of his thoughts by the unexpected words of the old man.

"What are you doing here?" Elder Ebizo wondered suddenly, speaking without provocation for the first time since he hailed Gaara. The teenager was about to snap that he wanted to know that too, but realized that the old man actually seemed honestly confused, so opted instead for another noncommittal grunt and silently amended his theory to reflect that the old man was obviously senile.  
"This is unfitting for someone like you, Kazekage-kun," the Elder continued, "You young people have too much energy for fishing, so you should be doing what young people do when they're troubled."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Gaara muttered back, clutching at the useless rod and staring at the curved wood morosely. Ebizo laughed again.

"Go throw yourself off a cliff, punch walls or drink yourself silly… I forget what you young generations do really, but it's not something like this."  
Gaara simply stared at the old man, well continued to really glare at him, as if insulted. "I don't drink."

The bushy eyebrows drew together and the wrinkled skin folded more as the old man frowned. "Why not?"

"I –" Gaara began, but stopped, realizing that it would probably take too much effort to explain and he doubted that anyone would understand his reasons anyway. "I just don't."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No. I don't intend to, either."

"Why not?" the old man asked again. Gaara grit his teeth and didn't answer. "Don't knock it 'til you try it, eh?"

He was dubious of the suggestion but took a moment to really ponder the options anyway. It seemed like the old man had nothing else to add so Gaara pulled himself up quickly with a huff from his sitting position. Without a word, but with a small nod, he replaced the rod and left.  
"You're welcome," Ebizo called after him, setting his gaze upon the water once again. "Young people these days..." He sighed with another chuckle.

Gaara ducked around the corner and headed back towards the center of the Village, seeking out his last refuge. It was almost halfway across the Village from where he was, but it didn't matter. It was a goal. He decided it was perhaps safest to stay on the ground level. People didn't usually approach him, after all, so he was less likely to be approached down here than up on the roofs where the patrols were. He was thankfully left alone during the few minutes' walk.

The familiar sight of his door was, for once, a welcome one when he landed outside the house with only a small cloud of dust displaced from the street. Quickly, he opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind himself. The family room ahead was dark but unchanged since the last time he had been in the house, so many weeks ago. He turned and locked the door, then for good measure, molded a bit of sand around every crevice and lock of every door or window leading to the outside. There, let any of them try to get to him now. He wouldn't allow it, he resolved, and the demon laughed at his vow.

Satisfied that he was safe now and all entrances blocked, he toed off his shoes and hurried towards his room at the back of the building. Secluded. Quiet. Perfect.

He felt anxious, heart beating swiftly out of proportion to the simple run from his office. He wanted – needed – to calm down somehow, to relax. So he stood a moment in the main room just trying to think of what to do next. Tea, he decided, was called for to remedy the situation. Yes, tea would be good. Gaara turned abruptly towards the kitchen and closed the distance in a few hurried steps. The kitchen was a moderate size, not large but not too small, either. He hadn't spent much time in it, except to eat, but he at least knew where everything was and began collecting items swiftly.

Preparing the tea was a welcome distraction to the other thoughts vying for his attention and Gaara set about the tasks with single-minded determination. He didn't really look at which tea he grabbed when he reached into the shelf, not really caring either which way what he ended up drinking. While the water boiled in a kettle he opened up the tin and tapped out a suitable portion of the dehydrated leaves into the wire mesh cylinder nestled in the ceramic teapot. Shukaku made his own suggestions for beverage choice, opting for something a little heartier than some measly boiled plant water. Gaara didn't really think it necessary explain to his demon why he wasn't going to comply with the usual request, despite suggestions to the contrary from senile old men. He'd declined enough over the years that it really should go without saying, but as Shukaku continued to whine and wheedle it occurred to the redhead… well, why not?

Going against the habit to always deny his beast, Gaara took a moment to fully rethink out the suggestion. He was older now, not that age was really an issue for such as he, but it was at least acceptable. With the new seals he wouldn't have to worry about Shukaku taking over his mind anymore, which had always been the chief reason behind his denials. The more he thought about it the more he realized that he really didn't have any valid reason not to agree. Like Elder Ebizo had said, it seemed to work for others when they wanted to forget their problems so…

… why not?

With that deciding thought in mind, Gaara turned and opened up a cupboard full of tall glass bottles and shifted them about until he spotted one of the sake bottles that was intended for imbibing rather than cooking. He set the bottle on the counter and opened up another door above his head to pull down the tokkuri and a single choko and setting them both next to the bottle, trying to ignore the pleased murmurs from his demon. The tea kettle began whistling and he turned again to remove it from the heat.

Well, he didn't really need to have two drinks now, did he? Making a quick decision, he grabbed a pot and emptied all the boiling water into it, sparing none for the waiting teapot. While it cooled a little, the Kazekage turned back to the bottle on the other counter, noting by the label that he had chosen a rather premium genjou sake. All the better then. Nimble fingers opened up the bottle and poured the liquid into the tokkuri flask, setting it then inside the pot of hot water to be warmed. He watched the alcohol closely and when he judged it warm enough pulled the tokkuri out by a careful grasp of the rim. With the flask in one hand and choko cup in the other Gaara turned to head back out of the kitchen, but at Shukaku's urging, returned to place the entire sake bottle in the warm water and carrying the entire thing, pot and all, back to his room.

Since his hands were full, Gaara used his sand to open the door to his room and also to shut it behind him after he stepped inside. The room was dim, the round window holes facing east and letting in little of the fading afternoon light. It was enough to see by, though, and he didn't miss a step as he quietly crossed the bare floor to where his seldom-used bed, setting the warm pot down on the side table. He didn't even look at the things he shoved aside to make space for the container, but still grabbed at the toppled pictured frame and tossed it blindly into the drawer below. He didn't want to see or think about his family yet. Tokkuri and choko still in hand, the redhead settled himself cross-legged on the bed.

The choko was a small cup and filled quickly with the warm clear liquid. Green eyes stared into the tiny pool of alcohol as he wondered for a moment just what exactly he was doing. This wasn't him. This wasn't something that Sabaku no Gaara would do. He was better than those men who drowned their sorrows at a bar, seeking release in the bottom of a bottle. He wasn't so pathetic.

But was he really? He thought over the situation again while Shukaku paced and hissed impatiently for him to drink. At least those other men managed to lead relatively normal lives, managed to retain something important somehow. But here Gaara was, his reality crashing down around him, his very existence a mockery. Was he really any better off than anyone else? Wasn't he, in fact, worse? He felt betrayed, bereft, barren… His life was already ruined, was it really so wrong of him to want to do something to escape it? Escape, even for a little while, feeling like his entire existence was a mockery.

He had nothing left to lose.

When the urgent hiss came again, Gaara nodded once to himself and tosses his head back as he drained the entire glass in one burning swallow.

* * *

As far as Shukaku was concerned, that long anticipated swallow was a bittersweet experience. On the one hand, he had been waiting _years_ for his killjoy host to give him a bloody drink of sake, so he felt that he was reasonably disappointed to find that he couldn't actually share the _taste_ of the drink at all. Of all the cruel tricks for fate to play on him, not even getting to enjoy the taste after more than a decade of wheedling and whining for some alcohol. Denied, oh so harshly. On the other hand, he at least had the amusement of his host choking and hacking on the drink. He let his displeasure be known with a gusty sigh that went entirely unnoticed by his still-coughing host. He could feel, just a little bit, the way it warmed the brat's stomach as it settled. 

Well, he'd take what he could get. Yet another instance of having to live – if this pitiful existence he endured could really be called that – vicariously through his host. When he finally stopped gagging, Shukaku urged Gaara to take another drink. The twerp made a rather rude suggestion on what he could go do with himself, to which the demon snorted that he would if he could. Anatomical impossibility notwithstanding, he'd be required to have an actual body to comply. Something he sorely missed and didn't appreciate having it rubbed in. He grumbled again for another drink.

Gaara balked.

Shukaku slammed his head against the bars of his cage and just roared in frustration. No. No no no! There was no way in hell he was going to let his uptight brat of host taunt him with the alcohol and then just yank it away. He screeched as loud as he could manage for him to _take the damn drink!_ The argument that ensued over the subject made the demon remember just how much he hated being stuck in this kid. It took nearly five minutes of fighting with each other before Gaara finally gave in with a snarl after Shukaku demanded to know just why not. It had been his own argument so the kid finally sucked it up and downed another cup in one gulp, this time managing not to cough quite so much.

'_I hate you_,' Gaara grumbled at him, talking out loud at the voice in his head like a lunatic but Shukaku could hear him just the same.

"The feeling is mutual, brat. Take another drink before it gets cold." This time Gaara complied with the command without much complaint. Shukaku plopped down on the floor of his cage and, after a moment's consideration, rolled over onto his back with his massive arms spread wide and hummed to himself as he soaked up every little bit of his host's sensations that he could. It was like being numb, just a little shy of completely senseless. Like feeling a stab like a pinprick, a punch like a caress… the sensations were hazy and dimmed but Shukaku could feel them, just barely, at the edge of his senses. He welcomes the warm tingle in his belly, relishing it like a fine meal and trying not to be too bitter about the poor quality of sensation.

He missed it. Decades of forced sobriety were almost like a physical pain, one that he had gotten used to for so long that he didn't even remember it was there until it was soothed. If there was anything Shukaku liked more than blood it was alcohol.

Gaara didn't even hesitate when the demon prompted him to drink a fourth glass, obeying silently while he sat in his own morose thoughts that Shukaku tried to tune out. By the fifth cup he didn't even have to be prompted. By the eighth, the boy gave up the choko entirely and downed the rest of the contents from the tokkuri directly, shifting enough to pull the sake bottle from the pot on the side table to refill the tokkuri before returning it to the warm water.

For a time, the kid managed to remain mostly mindless while he drank; staring at the shadows on the wall as they grew deeper with the fading light and taking slow drinks of the alcohol. It felt like a holiday for Shukaku, not only getting to finally have a bit of booze but to be able to enjoy it in relative silence. Soon enough, though, the monotony of the drinking settled in and Gaara's mind began to wander.

Unsurprisingly, it settled on the very thoughts that he'd been trying to avoid all week, which honestly made Shukaku just want to laugh. So he did, albeit quietly because he was in a mood to enjoy the kid's misery some more. Frankly, it gave him a sort of happy tingly feeling of satisfaction to know that his host was finally forsaking the Youko's brat. It served the bastard right to have his claim refuted, to feel the great Shukaku's scorn! He only wished that he could enjoy the bastard's misery first-hand, but he would suffice with the paltry suffering of his own brat.

Shukaku watched Gaara's thoughts – his memories – replaying over again in a tight loop. Watched with distaste as the brat remembered the flurry of hands and desperate touches, the ragged pants as he moved frantically against the Kyuubi's host, the haze while they recovered, and inevitably to the final murmured confession that caused such delicious fury in his brat's mind. He watched as the thoughts lingered on that confession, the way that their sweaty and breathless mate had smiled, reached up to slip calloused fingers caressingly over his host's cheek, then murmured the simple words that destroyed everything.

_I love you, Gaara._

In a rare show of guts, Shukaku thought, his host had reacted in fury and denied the other host. The words echoed again, kiss bruised lips forming them amidst and relaxed and contented façade, _I love you, Gaara._ Then the loop started over again. Remembering the fervent mating that had led to equally heated dismissal. Gaara tipped back another long swallow of tepid sake and Shukaku realized that if he wanted to continue enjoying this, he had better make sure that the brat would stay conscious enough to make it last. As loathe as he was to deny himself even a smidgeon of the wonderful inebriation, the demon exerted a bit of his chakra control to cleanse a bit of the toxins out of the kid's bloodstream to sober him up just at little, or at the least keep him from getting more wasted than he already was; who knew when he'd ever get the opportunity for this again, he damned well wanted to enjoy it as long as possible!

After a few cycles the memory-thoughts shifted again to something older. Much older. A time when Gaara was still but a child having a rather nauseating discussion about _love_, of all things, with his uncle. He sat beside his guardian, vision blurred from crying, listening to the man try to explain the concept. Then Yashamaru had wrapped an arm around his host's younger shoulders, pulling him into a close embrace and saying _I love you, Gaara-sama._

Another memory; his brat of a host moping on the roof, another attack deflected by his sand – and Shukaku smirked smugly at this memory – another assassin. He could feel his host's morose mood slip back towards fury as he took another drink, remembering seeing Yashamaru behind the assassin's mask, and remembering Yashamaru's confession about hating him for his sister's death. Remembering Yashamaru calling him a monster.

The memories conflicted. Yashamaru saying he loved Gaara. Yashamaru saying he hated him.

_'Lies!'_ his host snarled into his silent room, anger and hatred for his deceased uncle burning alongside the alcohol in his system. Shukaku purred quietly in delight. He had to admit, he liked the brat better like this and with a little prodding he goaded the thoughts and the fury back to the matter of the Kyuubi. He urged the memory of their last mating to last longer, to draw out and prolong the kid's suffering as the resentment transferred itself to the jinchuuriki of Konoha. Shukaku grinned maliciously and waited for the climax of the memory and when the rage erupted anew he roared with laughter like it was the punch line of a joke he'd just never get tired of.

_'I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself,'_ Gaara snarled bitterly, letting his demon know in no uncertain terms that he was far from pleased. Shukaku just laughed harder. _'I hate you. It's all your fault everyone hates me, betrays me!'_

"Hey now!" Shukaku protested, affecting an affronted appearance in their mind "You can't blame this one on me anymore. You _wanted_ me back, remember? This time it's all your doing so stop crying to me about it."

'Wanted_you?!'_his host scoffed, choking a little on his sake. He glared at the walls of his room as if he was actually staring at his demon, though he was reluctant to sink into his own mind enough to face him across the bars. Shukaku sneered at the emptiness outside his cage as though it were proof of the pest's weakness.

_'Don't flatter yourself, demon,'_ Gaara continued, _'There hasn't been a day of my miserable life that I've wanted you around. Those three years without you were the best of my life.'_

"Right, sure kid. That's why you were begging to have me back, huh? I know you missed me," he sneered and then laughed at his own taunting, rolling merrily on the dirty floor of his cell.

_'I should have left you in that contraption to rot,'_ the brat hissed, more anger and hatred in his voice than Shukaku had heard in a long time.

"I wish you had!" he huffed back in an exaggerated show of indifference, hiding the shudder he felt at the reminder of his captivity at the hands of the lunatics. Granted, he hated Gaara immensely, but being held hostage by a bunch of fanatics with a penchant for wearing red clouds and purple nail polish – _nail polish!! _– as a standard uniform was more than even he was willing to bear. It had been cold and dark and the short stint he had in one of the crazies as his host hadn't been a pleasant one. All in all, he was glad to have been back in the puny little runt of a ninja he was used to, but he'd just as soon rip his own tail off as admit it to his host! He did have pride, after all.

"But hey, I'm proud of you!" Shukaku continued, changing the subject. The kid scoffed warily and settled a little more comfortably with his half-empty sake bottle, having given up the smaller tokkuri altogether, shuddering as the demon's high chuckle reverberated through his mind. "I mean it, brat. You're turning into one right fine demon, if I do say so myself."

_'You're even crazier than I thought, demon, you know that?'_

"Pfft. You can't very well deny it, now can you? Not after everything you've done now."

_'And what, exactly, have I done?'_ Gaara asked tiredly, humoring his demon even though Shukaku really just found his attitude more entertaining by the minute.

"Well, besides the wonderful amount of killing you've done, since I know you shinobi types are perfectly capable of rationalizing _that_ to yourselves, I'm honestly more impressed by your more… recent… endeavors. Scorning love, for example!" he tossed his head back and laughed again, "It's classic! About damn time you realized what a waste that pathetic human sentiment is. _Love_," he spat the word out like it left a bad taste in his mouth, "just an excuse for the weak need for affection. It's absurd! You'd never catch any demon worth his salt claiming any bit of that wretched little emotion!"

_'You're lying,'_ Gaara whispered hoarsely, interrupting his little monologue, and Shukaku cocked his head a little to one side curiously, absently scratching behind an ear.

"Now why would I go and do that, huh? Damn, brat, learn to take a compliment!"

_'You're lying. I'm not like you.'_

"Naturally, you could never dream of being as great as I am."

_'I'm nothing like you!'_

"Oh come now, you can't honestly say –"

_'Shut up! I'm not a demon!!'_ before Shukaku could quite realize what was happening, Gaara lurched forward in his bed and punctuated his denial with the ominous shattering of the sake bottle against the far wall of the bedroom. The demon gaped for a moment before howling in anger.

"What in the seven sands do you think you're doing?!"

_'Shut up.'_

"You horrible little monster, what's wrong with you?"

_'I'm not a monster!'_

"YOU WASTED THE BOOZE!"

_'Go to hell.'_

"Look around brat! THIS IS IT!" he snarled and threw himself against the bars, "I take it back, not even a demon would _waste good alcohol!_"

_'I'm not a demon!'_ but Gaara's yell was tinged with fear and horror and in his desperation to shut his demon up, he resorted to the only thing he knew of to escape.

Shukaku's screams of rage at the loss of sake turned abruptly into those of pain as his host abruptly used his newly acquired skill to bruise the chakra pores of the demon's seal. He felt his body, ethereal as it was, ripple in shock from the sudden damage to his chakra, his very essence.

"_HOW DARE YOU, BRAT!_"

The second pore was hit with bruising force and Shukaku collapsed to the floor of his cage, teeth bared and body convulsing from the effects. He felt suddenly hollow, thinned out and when he looked at his paw through slit eyes he almost expected to see himself fading away. It felt like he was fading.

"Just like a demon," he spat at his host, "to enjoy causing so much pain so readily."

_'I'm not a demon,'_ Gaara hissed again.

"Of course not," Shukaku snarled with a mocking, gurgling laugh, "but what kind of _human_ betrays love, huh?"

His cackle erupted into a newly agonized scream as the third pore was disrupted. The demon lost all sense of thought and time, his whole being centered around the excruciating pain he was forced to endure. It felt like his limbs were being ripped off, like he was being skinned alive… slowly, like every bone and muscle was being turned into liquid. His screams reverberated through his body like it was nothing but an empty husk. Shukaku screamed, knowing nothing else until he slipped into a state of mindless un-feeling that, had his twitching listless body been real, would probably have resembled comatose.

* * *

kompeitou: I know I probably don't deserve it after making everyone wait so long but... review please? I suck at writing angst and this chapter was hell for me, so I'd really appreciate some feedback on it. Thanks for reading nonetheless n.n 


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